


We'd Be Smiling

by Hypnobyl



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Apocalypse, F/F, I promise, No Major Character Death, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 31,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8378200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypnobyl/pseuds/Hypnobyl
Summary: Even after the world ends, there are still ghosts to bust.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the end. This will be Holtzbert, but the other characters will feature fairly strongly. Post-Canon AU.

Always a heavy sleeper, Erin doesn’t wake up when something explodes outside her apartment building. Her windows rattle, the ground shakes, and somewhere within the building a baby yowls--but Erin only rolls over and snores a little louder.

0-0-0

Her phone buzzes a few hours later. Because the device is directly under her pillow and on its highest setting, she’s dragged forcefully from her dreams. Half-awake, she paws drool from her chin and fumbles for her phone, mistaking the incoming call for her alarm. A moment later, the phone buzzes again, and she knows it’s too soon for her snooze. She gets the phone to her ear and groans out a hello. A familiar voice chimes through, so she grimaces and attempts to listen.

 “This had better be good.”

“Erin? Are you okay?”

“Abby, I’m fine. A little frustrated because you’re calling me in the middle--”

“Shut up.”

Erin sits up and frowns. Abby has never been this brusque with her. “Excuse me.”

“You’re at home, right? Stay where you are. We’re coming to get you.”

“What’s going on?”

“Turn on the damn television. This is not a drill.”

When Abby hangs up on her, Erin considers going back to sleep. She lies back down and closes her eyes, but her curiosity gets the better of her. Dragging herself upright, she grabs the remote control from her bedside table and turns the news on. The anchor looks as exhausted as she feels.

“--three a.m. have turned violent. While police on the scene are trying to regain control, there is still confusion and fear.” Images flicker onto the screen, showing burning buildings, upturned cars, and people amassing in the streets. Erin’s stomach churns. “Some rioters have turned against the police, seeing the presence of law enforcement as an additional threat rather than a source of safety. We turn now to--”

Erin mutes the volume and stares with growing horror at the on-the-scene reporter, who is harried more than once by people brandishing weapons. Something hits the camera, and the scene changes quickly back to the studio. Erin turns the television off and moves to her closet. If Abby’s coming to get her, then she might as well be prepared to leave in something other than her Vera Wang pajamas. Stripped down to her underwear, she braces herself against the wall and sucks in deep breath after deep breath.

This could just be a nightmare. She had eaten that extremely rich slice of chocolate cake not too long before she’d gone to bed, which she knew had the chance of giving her very vivid, often scary, dreams. Perhaps this was one of them. A sharp pinch to her thigh proves that she’s very much awake.

Someone raps at her front door, so she quickly pulls on a pair of jeans, a loose shirt, and her MIT hoodie. The rapping intensifies, and Erin jogs through her apartment, peers through the peephole, and confirms that it’s Abby and Kevin rather than random hooligans. She pulls the door open, and Abby hugs her tightly. Kevin moves past them and heads for the kitchen.

“What’s he doing?”

“Gathering supplies.”

Erin nods. “Are Holtz and Patty okay?”

“They’re fine--holding down the fort at the firehouse. We decided that’s the safest place for all of us to be right now.”

“Really? In the middle of a riot, you want us in the same room as Holtz’s unstable equipment?”

“She shut most of it down.”

“Oh.” Erin shivers, knowing that this must truly be an emergency if Holtz is willing to sacrifice her work. “What’s going on out there? I turned on the news, but it was all just about the riots in-progress.”

“Some people are claiming we’ve been bombed--that this is some sort of ISIL shit, but I saw the clips. It doesn’t look like any bombing I’ve ever seen.”

“So, what is it?”

“Hell if I know. But people are going nuts. There’s talk that the military is going to roll out sooner or later, and I’d just prefer having all my loved ones in one spot until things calm down again.”

Kevin pokes his head out of the kitchen. “Can I bring the Oreos?”

“Grab anything you want,” Erin replies, her mind elsewhere.

Abby adds, “Remember to focus on non-perishables, Kev. I know Erin lives on boxed noodles.”

Flushing, Erin huffs and puffs, but she has no good retort. That’s the truth. “Should I bring a change of clothes?”

“Bring a couple. Holtz installed that washer/dryer unit, but there’ll be six of us, and--”

“Six?”

“You, me, Kev, Holtz, Patty, and Patty’s nephew. He was visiting when all of this happened.”

“Give me ten minutes.”

“I hate to do this, but you’ve got five.”

Erin nods and hurries back to her bedroom. She grabs a handful of clean underwear, some comfortable pants, and half a dozen shirts. After a moment’s consideration, she grabs her childhood teddy bear from its home in a drawer, as well as her pillow. If she’s going to sleep somewhere else, she needs that--otherwise, she’ll have neck problems galore. She continues to the bathroom, where she nabs a few toiletries. She pauses only for a second to examine the dark bags beneath her eyes.

When she meets Abby at the front door, Kevin is ready to go, as well. She glances at her apartment once more and wonders if she’s leaving anything important behind. She has no way of knowing that this will be the last time she’s there for several years.

0-0-0

The Ecto-1 is parked at the curb outside, illegally split across two spots. While Kevin loads the back, Erin slides into the backseat and peers out the window. There’s a crevasse in the pavement on the other side of the street, and a car is half-toppled inside. While her neighborhood is somewhat quieter than what she saw on television, there are dark figures skulking around--some a bit too close to the car. Kevin keeps them at bay with a few tough words, but he has to push a few curious hands away from their stuff before he slams the back of the car closed.

Abby revs the engine as he drops into the passenger seat. They take off down the street, moving a bit too slowly for Erin’s tastes. She wants out of the dark night and into the safety of the firehouse, but she understands that there are holes in the road, rowdy people on the streets, and a million reasons not to speed across town. Abby thankfully avoids the loudest areas, where there are screams, explosions, and flares of fiery light; Erin sees more than enough from a distance to know she wants no part of that craziness.

When they finally ease into the firehouse’s rear lot, Erin lets out a deep breath and flops back against the seat.

“This is seriously unreal,” she says to the ceiling.

Abby snorts mirthlessly. “C’mon. Help us unload, and come meet the kid.”

Although she’s still somewhat uncertain if this is reality, Erin scoots out of the car and grabs a few bags. Kevin holds most of them, but for once, she’s not concerned with his bulging muscles. She spots Holtz waiting in the doorway, and her heartbeat triples. Being told her friends are safe is one thing, but actually seeing it with her own eyes is another. She picks up her pace and runs into Holtz’s open arms.

“Gilbert, we have to talk,” Holtz whispers in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Right this second?”

“Well, you can put your bags down.”

Their conversation is interrupted as Abby tugs on Erin’s arm and guides them all inside. Kevin drops everything he’s holding to lock the bolt on the door and then slide an additional bar into place. Holtz mentions it’s a recent addition, given that people started looting nearby. They find Patty and a little boy in the library section of the first floor. The boy’s got the second Harry Potter book open on his lap, and Patty’s fingers combing through his short curls.

“Erin, this is Matthew,” Holtz introduces. “Little man’s a whiz when it comes to reading. I think he gets it from Patty.”

“Holtzy, I’m his aunt, not his mother.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s not how genetics work.”

“I don’t understand.”

Patty rolls her eyes. Abby gestures to the bags Kevin unceremoniously deposited on the ground. “Anyone want to help me get these up to the kitchen?”

“Sure.” Erin hesitates. “What are we doing for sleeping arrangements?”

“I have a mattress in my lab that you’re welcome to share,” Holtz replies with a wink.

“We’ve got the couch down here, and Kevin brought some sleeping bags. I figured that worst case, we could sleep in shifts. That might be best anyway, since someone should keep an eye on the news.”

“Is it just New York?”

Abby shakes her head. “People are saying it’s all over the U.S., at least.”

Holtz adds, “I was reading some posts from people in Canada--apparently there’s some madness there, too.”

“But all North America?”

“I’m sure we’ll find out.” Abby hefts Erin’s borrowed groceries up. “Now, come on. Chit chat later. Heavy lifting now.”


	2. Chapter 2

They crowd around the television as the news anchors struggle onward with breaking news. There have been power outages around New York City--very localized, as some power poles have been chopped down by rioters. Despite how often the words “police” and “military force” are mentioned, there is no visual to suggest that the government law enforcement agencies are doing anything to help. Erin wonders if the panic is just too widespread, if there are more panicked people than those with badges and uniforms.

“Mind turning it down?” Patty is the only adult who hasn’t joined the semi-circle. She cradles Matthew in her lap and frowns, gesturing down at him.

Erin notes that his eyes are closed and makes the connection. The little boy has fallen asleep. She flashes Patty a thumbs up and turns the volume lower. She also turns the subtitles on, just so they don’t miss anything important. After half an hour of watching people getting hurt, attacking each other, and damaging public property, Erin’s had enough. It’s nearing five in the morning, and she wants a little bit of sleep. Matthew has the right idea--when they both wake up, the world will have righted itself again.

“Can I get one of those sleeping bags?”

“Just crash on my mattress,” Holtz offers. “I was joking about you joining me, but you’re definitely welcome to use it.”

“I hate to ask this--”

“It’s clean. I washed the sheets not that long ago, and we can wash them again later. Other than a spare page of notes, there shouldn’t be anything to worry about in there. At least nothing creepy or crawly.”

Erin pulls a face and heads for the stairs. “Thanks, Holtz.”

“We still need to talk--”

“I know. I promise I won’t forget. I’m just exhausted.”

Holtz salutes her and settles back to watch the screen. Erin usually hates leaving conversations open like that. As a child, whenever she heard the words “We need to talk,” the resulting exchange of words tended to end poorly for her. She was a disappointment. She wasn’t pretty enough. She might have aced the exam, but she wasn’t doing well in the lab portion of the class because she couldn’t play nice with her partner. With Holtz, however, there is no unease. Whatever they need to speak about, Erin isn’t going to worry about.

She finds Holtz’s mattress just as promised: relatively clean. Rescuing her pillow from her other supplies, she lies down and drags the sheet to her chin. This is sort of strange, she thinks as she inhales Holtz’s scent and closes her eyes. Not the sort of strange that’s weird, she amends. It’s the sort of strange that’s simply foreign. She could get used to this. Her cheeks color at the silent admission.

This is a crisis situation. She really shouldn’t be thinking about her feelings for her friend. She diverts her attention to the chaos outside instead. People are probably getting hurt--or worse. That she’s safe and warm inside is a small comfort, but she’s terribly uncomfortable with the idea that others are not. She’s experienced her share of anguish over the course of her lifetime, and she doesn’t want others to suffer.

She turns her head and presses her nose into her pillow. The scent of home mingles with the scent of Holtz, and she banishes all thoughts from her head. If she continues to think, then she’ll never get the rest she so desperately wants. She measures her breaths, counting as she inhales and praying on her exhales. This will be better when she wakes up.

0-0-0

With sunlight pouring through the windows, she can’t sleep too late. She straggles upright and paws the hair from her cheeks. After a moment, she realizes that she’s not alone, and she flushes at how unkempt she must look. Holtz doesn’t seem to notice, however. It’s not until Erin stands up that Holtz’s attention lifts from the blueprints in front of her and lands on Erin at all.

“Hey! You’re awake.”

“Yes.” Erin stands a little straighter. “What’s going on outside?”

“Oh, you know.”

“Still bad?”

“Somehow even worse.” Holtz shrugs.

“Worse how?”

“Some cops got beaten to death. Riots have gotten more violent. Still no word from the higher powers.”

“You believe in God?”

“No, and I don’t think I believe in government anymore, either.”

Erin laughs but quickly sobers. “State or federal?”

“Neither.”

“So, the military that was supposed to come in?”

“AWOL right now.”

“Are we still safe here?”

“I had to add some security to our windows. Up here, I think we’re fine. But downstairs, anywhere that looked breakable, I boarded up. Matty helped.”

“How long is this going to last?”

Holtz shrugs again. “I’d bet at least through the end of the day, if we’re really optimistic.”

“And if we’re pessimistic?”

“This could be permanent.” Holtz winks. “Or maybe end of the week. It all depends on how crazy the rest of the country is. New York is big, though, so we might get help before Nowhere, Oklahoma.”

“Do we have enough food? Supplies?”

“Yes, and yes.”

Erin releases a sigh and runs a hand through her hair. “Then I guess all we can do is wait this out.”

“My thoughts exactly. Say, have a moment for that conversation?”

Having absolutely nothing else to do, Erin nods. “Go for it. Is everything okay?”

“Peachy.” Holtz adjusts her yellow-lensed glasses and clears her throat. Despite her earlier confidence, her voice cracks as she talks. “Engineering is a creative mechanism for solving problems, something that I have never struggled with. I find a problem, and I tackle it. When I met you, however, I found a problem I couldn’t solve.”

“Holtz--”

“I am not speaking of a bad problem. More of a math problem, where there are infinite variables, and the theorems keep changing. When everything outside exploded, I realized I was running out of time to solve this. I have feelings for you, Erin. I don’t want to die without saying that to you.”

Erin is silent for several moments, during which time Holtz squirms uneasily in her chair. Finally, Erin shakes her head. “Holtz, I’m sorry, but this isn’t the time. Like you said, everything outside exploded. People say things during emergencies that they don’t mean, or that they’ll regret later.”

“I won’t--”

“I’d prefer if we forgot about this for now. We can revisit the topic later, once everything is calmer. If you still feel the same way, then we can discuss where we go next.”

“Do you--”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Erin replies, a little more harshly than she intends. She straightens her clothing and avoids looking at Holtz. “Please.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Without looking back--half afraid that she’d see Holtz break down over this denial--she skulks downstairs, unable to deal with the fallout of the bomb she’d just dropped on the other woman.

0-0-0

“You look rested,” Abby says, but Erin isn’t sure if this is hyperbole, sarcasm, or something else entirely.

“Holtz tells me that things haven’t gotten any better.”

“I got a call through to the mayor’s office, but Ms. Lynch says that nobody knows what’s going on. I don’t know if I trust her, but that’s all the news I can get.”

“This must be big, then.”

“I called the police station, too, but all the lines are busy. Hospital, too.”

Erin shuffles to her desk and rests her temples in her hands. “This is a nightmare.”

“You’re awake now, so it can’t be a nightmare.”

“Do you know where my phone ended up?”

“No, but you can borrow mine for now.”

Erin takes the device gratefully and dials the number for her parents. On the second ring, her mother picks up and tearfully demands to know if something’s happened to Erin.

“Mom, it’s me. I can’t find my phone right now.”

“Oh, baby. We’ve been trying to call you all morning. Are you okay?”

“I’m safe. I’m with Abby and the others.”

“Your father and I are in the storm cellar. We saw on the news that the major cities are being hit the worst.”

“By what?” Erin leans on her elbows and stares at the wall.

“Isn’t it on the news where you are?”

“No.”

“Maybe they don’t want to create a panic.”

“Mom, please, just tell me.”

“It’s fireballs, from the sky. You remember the Johnsons? Their barn went up in flames last night. That’s what woke us up.”

“Are they okay?”

Her mother hesitates. “I’m glad you’re okay. Do you have food and water?”

“Yes.”’

“Please, baby, be safe.”

“I will, Mom, and I’ll call again soon.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Erin hangs up and presses the phone to her chin. At Abby’s curious gaze, she says, “Mom says it’s fireballs falling from the sky.”

“We didn’t see any when we were out.”

“Maybe it all happened at once before, and this is just the fallout.” Erin prefers this to thinking another country or a terrorist organization has bombed them. A natural disaster, although just as harmful, is less malicious. The government will send help soon. They just have to wait it out.


	3. Chapter 3

Oddly enough, they get a series of phone calls throughout the day. Because other emergency services aren’t picking up, people think they’ll have to do. Patty, who has the most experience fielding angry, frustrated, and scared customers thanks to the MTA, takes the calls. She explains with infinite patience that unless the emergency is ghost-related, there’s not much they can do. They’re not authorized by the city to do anything other than bust spirits, so no, they can’t do a wellness check, and they most certainly can’t wade through a mob to check on an injured person, no matter how much they might want to help.

Erin sits with Matthew while he reads his book. Whenever he looks up, she makes sure to smile so that he doesn’t think there’s anything to panic about. He’s a cute kid, and she can’t imagine what he’s going through right now. She’s an adult, and she feels no shortage of anxiety about being separated from her parents during this crisis.

“Bathroom?” he whispers, catching her attention.

She extends her hand for him to hold and leads him to the small first-floor bathroom. He closes the door, and she leans on the wall to wait for him. When he flushes, she praises the powers that be that water is still running and electricity still working. From her position, she can hear the television blaring mutely; Abby’s been glued to the set since that morning, despite Erin asking her to step away for a few minutes. Watching all the devastation can’t be healthy.

“Thank you.”

She takes Matt’s hand again and guides him to the library area again. “Are you hungry?”

He shrugs as he sits down. “Maybe a little.”

“What’s your favorite thing to eat?”

“Grilled cheese.”

“Want one?”

“Yes, please.”

She can’t tell if he’s normally this reticent or if this is his response to everything happening around him. In spite of the situation, he’s maintained his manners, which shocks Erin. When she panics, the niceties are the first things to go from her demeanor. She leaves him with Harry Potter and heads upstairs to the kitchen, where their bags of supplies are stacked in the corner.

They ought to eat the food that will spoil first, so she has no qualms using up a healthy portion of cheese and butter, nor with sacrificing two slices of bread. Hopefully, they won’t be in a position where food is scarce, anyway. She turns the range on and sets about making him a hot and toasty meal.

“Whatcha making?” Holtz has a bad habit of sneaking up on her.

She gestures to the foods spread out on the counter. When Holtz doesn’t figure it out alone, Erin supplies, “Grilled cheese. Matt’s hungry.”

“I’m hungry, too…” Holtz bats her eyelashes and smiles.

Erin rolls her eyes. “Would you like one, too?”

“If you’re offering!”

“Someday, you’re going to have to learn to ask properly,” Erin grouses as she preps another few slices. “Your manipulation is real cute--”

“You think I’m cute?”

Erin is silent a long moment. “Holtzmann, I was serious before. I don’t want--”

“I was just trying to make things feel normal,” Holtz quickly asserts, lifting her hands and stepping back. “Sorry if I offended your delicate sensibilities. No thanks on the grilled cheese. Outie.”

Holtz disappears as quickly as she appeared, and Erin is left with half-prepared food. Since Holtz no longer wants the sandwich, she decides to eat it herself, in solidarity with her young charge. By the time she returns to Matthew, he’s fast asleep with the book propped against his chest. She removes the book and gathers him in her arms. At Patty’s direction, she carries him upstairs--struggling by the time she reaches the top of the stairs--and enters Holtz’s lab.

“I’m sorry to bother you--” Erin halts as she realizes the lab is empty. She lays Matthew on the mattress and pulls the covers around him. Ruffling his hair, she stands and considers where Holtz might have gotten to. She, too, wants things to feel normal, so she decides she ought to apologize.

Given that Holtz hadn’t been downstairs a moment before, and the lab is empty, Erin decides to check the roof. The thought of going outside, even so high up and out of reach, is a little anxiety-inducing, but she assures herself over and over again that they’re safe. She takes the stairs slowly and treats the door to the roof as if it’s made of steel. Thankfully, her effort is not in vain: Holtz leans against the edge of the roof and stares out at the city.

“Holtz?”

“Yeah?”

Erin isn’t heartened by the way Holtz doesn’t turn to look at her. “What are you doing out here?”

“Fresh air. I thought it would clear my head.”

There are sirens blaring and people shouting--so this is hardly an ideal location for introspection--but Erin supposes she understands the core concept. Wrapping her arms around herself, she crosses the space and joins Holtz at the edge. After bolstering her courage, she looks down at the streets outside the firehouse and immediately cringes away.

“Yeah, not so nice out there right now.”

“Is that--”

“Blood?” Holtz’s grip on the roof tightens. “Yeah, I think so.”

“There’s… there’s a lot.”

“I know.”

“Like--”

“I know,” Holtz interrupts, her voice iron. “Let’s just toss that onto the list of things we’re not speaking about.”

“About that…”

“Look, Gilbert, you’ve made yourself pretty darn clear, okay?” Holtz shifts away, her lower lip trembling.

Erin’s never seen her cry before and hates that she’s the cause of the glistening in Holtz’s eyes. She steps forward, hand outstretched. “Jillian, it’s not that I don’t like you because I do. It’s that… There’s too much going on. I don’t want--I can’t. I can’t get involved when I’m in a panic. I…”

“You’re not that kind of gal, I know.” Holtz sighs and rubs the back of her neck. “I think it’ll be best, then, to keep your distance from me right now. I’m a little raw, so to speak, and I have even less self-control than usual. Hence the snapping.”

This might be as close to a resolution as they’ll get, so Erin nods. “I can do that. I just wanted you to know that I do value you, first and foremost as a friend, and I really don’t want to lose that.”

Holtz throws her a salute and turns back to the city. “Gimme some time, okay?”

“Okay.”

0-0-0

Erin sleeps restlessly in the sleeping bag. Although the bag offers a minimal amount of comfort, there’s no comparison to sleeping on Holtz’s mattress. When she wakes in the morning, she has a backache and the beginnings of a migraine. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have her medication and so squirrels herself away in a dark closet with a few bottles of water and a damp cloth. If she needs assistance, all she has to do is knock twice and Abby will come see what she needs.

She knows the migraine isn’t just because of sleeping uncomfortably. She can’t shake the image of the blood-spattered sidewalk from her mind’s eye. The police haven’t shown up, and she knows Abby’s been trying to get another call through to town hall for an update. When Erin passed through the common area earlier, her eyes squeezed shut and her fingers pressed to her temples, she overheard Abby complaining that there were times when the phones were no longer working.

She plans to call her parents in a few hours, when the mere sound of her mother’s voice won’t feel like knives behind her eyes. She hopes she’ll get through because she really needs a comforting conversation right about now. Really, she wants to talk to Abby about Holtz, but with them all crammed into the firehouse, there’s no opportunity for a private discussion like that. So, she’ll settle for an innocuous conversation with her mom later.

When pain flares, she grabs her water bottle and pops another Tylenol. It won’t do much, but maybe if she believes hard enough, it’ll take the edge off. She slides down, slows her breathing, and does her best to quell the nausea roiling in her belly. She hasn’t had this bad of a time in years--but she’s had her medication on hand each time she’s felt one coming.

There’s a very quiet tap on the door, and she grunts out a pained greeting.

Holtz replies in a whisper, “I have something for you. It’s not prescription strength, but I promise it’ll help.”

“What happened to keeping your distance?”

“Only a jerk would like a friend sit through a migraine when there’s something she could do.”

Erin fumbles with the door and winces as a tiny sliver of light slips in. She accepts a few pills from Holtz, who doesn’t describe what they are or what they’ll actually do. Desperate, Erin gulps them down.

“Any news?”

“We’re supposed to prepare for rolling blackouts.”

“Oh. Good.”

“I’m working on a power generator, mostly solar with maybe a bike attachment, to keep us up and running. I haven’t really figured out the plumbing, yet, if something were to happen--”

“Great, Holtz.”

Holtz pauses and reassesses. “Oh. Right. Your migraine. Sorry.”

“Thank you, Holtz.”

“It was nothing. Anything you need, I got you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Erin spends most of the day in the closet, even after her migraine subsides. Somehow, locked in this small, confined space, she feels like everything might be okay. Outside, the world has gone mad, but in this closet, she’s in complete control. That’s a nice feeling. She even manages a short nap, despite the uncomfortable position. Eventually, she decides that she’s hidden long enough and heads out to see what’s going on.

The building is dark.

She checks her watch and determines that it’s not late at night. The power must be out. A little more cautious now, she enters the common space on the first floor and notes Patty by the television. Nobody else is around, so she sits at Patty’s side and stares at the blank screen.

“How long have we been without power?”

Patty shrugs. “Maybe an hour. I keep hoping it’ll come back on, though, so we can see what’s going on in the world.”

“I’m guessing things aren’t great right now.”

“No.”

With a sigh, Erin leans back and stares aimlessly upward. “It’s interesting. At first, I had all this panic and anxiety about what’s going on--but now, it’s just sort of numb. I know it’s crazy outside, but I almost don’t care.”

Patty grips her hand and squeezes. “That’s what happens when you’re in a crisis long enough. You get used to it. Your body chills on the anxiety because you just literally can’t be amped up all the time.”

“People are getting hurt--even killed--and I’m just…”

“Out of fucks to give,” a familiar voice supplies.

Erin turns and offers Holtzmann a shy smile. “I suppose that’s crude but accurate.”

“Patty’s right. Cut yourself a break, Gilbert. You can care about people again in a few days.”

Erin runs a hand through her hair. She supposes they have a point. “Any chance we still have running water?”

“Affirmative. Go take a shower.”

“Do I smell that bad?”

Patty laughs and shakes her head. “No, but it’s been a while. Your hair’s greasy.”

Taking her leave, Erin shifts to the shower. She sloughs off her clothing and steps into the spray, which is colder than she’d like. The water heater is powered via electricity, she realizes, and someone must have used the hot water before she tried. That’s fine. She cleans herself quickly and wraps herself in a towel. Sitting on the closed toilet, she inventories her emotions. Just like her empathy, everything else is empty as well.

“You okay in there?”

Erin fumbles the towel tighter and opens the door for Abby. “Just processing.”

“You want to do that for me, too? I was just on the roof.” Abby grimaces. “Shit’s not pretty.”

“What’s going on?”

“Some people marched by not that long ago, chanting. A few police officers tried to stop them.”

“And?”

Abby shifts from foot to foot. “It got a little violent.”

“Why are people acting like this? It’s only been a few days.”

“I guess people don’t need much of an incentive to go wild.”

“None of us did.”

“I’m a scientist, not a psychologist,” Abby replies. “I don’t know why people do what they do.”

“Well, hopefully, this will all be over in a few days.”

0-0-0

A few days later, Holtzmann figures out how to craft solar panels for the roof, and the electricity turns back on. Erin sits mutely in front of the television and finds a national news channel, which is still working. The local channel is all static--and Erin doesn’t think that means anything good. Thankfully, there are still other channels running, even if the news they bring is disheartening.

“Nationwide panic is still spreading,” a man with finely slicked back hair announces. “President Clinton has gone on record as saying the situation is under control, and some areas have seen the arrival of the National Guard. Despite these assurances, rioting continues in all major cities, and the death toll is rising. Hospitals have been overwhelmed and are urging those with non-fatal injuries to stay home until the crisis is over.”

Erin rests her chin on her knees. Abby wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“We need to talk,” Abby murmurs. “This is going on a lot longer than expected. We haven’t done too much damage to our supplies, but at this rate, we need to think about how we’re going to get more.”

“Are any stores open?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t… I’m not sure…” Erin transfers her gaze to the ground. “Are you talking about looting?”

“I’m talking about reviewing our options.”

“I’m not going to participate in stealing.”

Abby nods. “Look, I’m not a fan of doing this anymore than you are. But I’d rather survive long enough to make it right than die of hunger because I need to do the right thing. Erin, there’s a kid with us here.”

“I know that.”

“Well, then what do you suggest?”

“We eat what we have, rationing if we have to, and then we discuss possibilities. I don’t like this--it’s preemptive. Like you want to do it.”

Abby stares her down. “I don’t want to, but by the time we run out of food, there might not be much left.”

“Then we’ll deal with that.”

“Erin--”

“Look, if you really want to talk to someone about this, ask Holtz. I’m sure she’ll have a million different ways for you to break in somewhere.”

Abby sighs and stands. “Fine. I apologize for putting you in an uncomfortable position, Er.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Erin replies quietly. “I know this is probably the wrong time to get all in a huff about ethics--”

“It’s probably the best time, actually. You’ve seen what’s going on out there.” Abby shrugs. “I’m glad we still have the luxury.”

“I’m glad you’re more pragmatic than I am. You’re right. We’ll need food if this keeps going. I just… I guess I’m not ready to admit that this’ll go longer than we have supplies.”

“Fair enough. I’ll talk it over with Holtz.”

Erin manages a tight-lipped grin. “Great.”

“Are things okay between you two?”

“Oh, just great.”

Abby’s expression twists. She cocks an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“We’ve sort of--decided to keep some distance for now.”

“The world feels like it’s ending, so you two decide to stop being friends.”

“It’s more like we’ve decided not to be more for now.”

Sitting back down, Abby stares at her. “Holtz made a move?”

“Yes, but this is hardly the time.”

“Well, yeah, but since when has Holtz ever been completely appropriate?”

“Never,” Erin admits. That’s part of Holtz that both scares and thrills her.

“You like being in control, and you like thinking through your decisions and being right.” Abby shrugs. “Nothing about what’s happening means you can’t have all three.”

“It’s a crisis, Abby. What if she--what if she regrets what she said? What if she didn’t mean it?”

The laugh Abby lets out fills the room. “Erin, she’s been hung up on you since the day you walked into our lab at Higgins. Pretty sure she’s not reneging anytime soon.”

“Oh.”

“So, think about it seriously. If you’re into her, then I don’t think what’s happening should get in the way. But that’s just my two cents.”

“I am.” Erin swallows hard. If she weren’t into Holtz, then this would be a non issue. “I haven’t really told anyone about it. It’s… sorta new.”

“Liking women? Or liking Holtz?”

“A little of both.”

“I figured. You want to talk about it?”

Relief floods her. “Yes, please.”

“Meet me on the roof in twenty minutes. It’s the only place where we’re guaranteed some privacy, at least for a while.”

Erin nods and turns her attention back to the television. An innocuous ad for deodorant nearly makes her cry--the item is pedestrian, and she wouldn’t have given the commercial any amount of attention before now. Yet, looking at happy, sane people rubbing Dove on their armpits seems like glimpsing an alternate universe. She flicks the T.V. off and wipes at her eyes. She almost wishes the numbness were still ever present, as it was a few days prior. Instead, her emotions have ramped back up to an ever-present, underlying sadness that slips in whenever her guard slips.

On her way up to the roof, she passes Patty snoozing with Matthew. They look comfortable, so Erin doesn’t disturb them. She merely adjusts the blanket to cover Patty’s shoulders and continues up. Once outside, she does her best not to look at anything but the sky and roof beneath her feet. Still, she can’t ignore the constant sirens in the distance and the intermittent noises of riots that can’t be too far away.

Why can’t they all just go home? she wonders. Riots on the first few days she can sort of understand. But it’s been nearly a week, and they’re still going strong. Aren’t people tired? Don’t they want to rest? To feel safe?

She’s never been much of a fighter, and she supposes she’ll never be much of a rioter, either.


	5. Chapter 5

The sky is clear, and the sun is bright. Erin stares up at the one cloud that’s barely hanging there and wonders why things aren’t more like literature--if this were a novel, the weather would reflect their turmoil and stress, rather than looking like a perfectly normal late afternoon. She wishes this were a novel, if only to have the ability to skip a few hundred pages and make sure there’s a happy ending.

Abby steps outside and sucks in a lungful of fresh air. “It’s almost too nice out.”

“I was just thinking that, actually.”

“So.”

“Yes?”

“C’mon. What’s going on in that little head of yours?”

Erin folds her arms over her stomach and averts her eyes. “It’s just totally new, okay? Before this point, I sorta knew I had a thing for girls, at least aesthetically. Like, I’m not blind. You’ve got the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen, and the thought that Patty could probably bench press me is... “

“Okay, mental image deleted.”

“Sorry.”

“Erin, I hate to break it to you, but you’re really really gay.”

“I think I’m bi.”

“Okay. I hate to break it to you, but you’re really really bi.”

Erin flushes. “That sounds so… different. Than the way I always pictured myself.”

“Always thought you’d find a nice man, settle down, and have a couple of kids?”

“With a house and a white picket fence,” Erin supplies. She knows that this is a fantasy, and an outdated one at that, but that’s what her parents have always wanted for her.

“Well, you know you can just as easily substitute a wife into that picture rather than a husband.”

“I know that. But it’s not what I thought of myself.”

Abby rubs her back fondly. “You’re just full of surprises.”

“The biggest surprise is that it’s Holtzmann, of all people, that has me questioning everything. She’s so--different. She’s a bit wild, and she knows what she wants. That’s the furthest from me it’s possible to be, I think. I don’t want to like her.”

“Because…?”

“It feels so complicated. Dating Phil was easy. He never asked me for anything. Then again, he didn’t exactly want to be around me, either. I’m not actually sure we were dating. Except that he called me his girlfriend a few times.” Erin shakes her head and refocuses. “Anyway, he fit into the little cookie cutter shape of a man I had in my head.”

“Erin, the world is pretty much ending right now. I think it’s time to throw away the ideal life and just get used to the idea of what you have right in front of you. I think if you explain to her that you’re uncertain about being with a woman--”

“I’m not uncertain, okay? It’s just new.”

“Sure. She’ll take it easy on you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s a good idea, but maybe not for too long? If you have to think too hard about it, maybe you’re right--maybe you’re not ready for a relationship with her. But either way, you have to let her know.”

“I know that, I do.” Erin squeezes her eyes shut and wishes the sirens would just stop long enough for her to think clearly. The sun drifts down to the horizon, and the sky stains a beautiful mix of purples and pinks. As a chill invades the air, she and Abby head back inside. She’s grateful for the chat, but nothing is clearer than before, except that she has to make a real decision.

0-0-0

Kevin stands at the front entrance, twisting the knob uselessly. It’s locked, but more than that, there’s a slat of wood nailed across to keep the doors closed. Erin tilts her head curiously as she comes to stand next to him.

“What are you doing?”

“People are knocking,” he says by way of explanation.

Thinking quickly, she replies, “It’s outside our hours of operation, Kev. We’ll let them in when we open again.”

He nods. “Oh, right.”

“How are you doing?”

“Good, I think. But I’ve missed a lot of hide and seek practice.”

“They probably just think you’re hiding very well.” She stares up at his handsome smile but no longer feels the same tingles of attraction she once had. He’s like a piece of art in a museum--lovely to look at, but she doesn’t want to make love with it.

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“No, of course not.” It might be. She doesn’t know the rules of the game, but she needs him calm and relaxed. If there’s panic inside the firehouse, then her anxiety might make a frightful comeback. “Why don’t you call one of your teammates and check in?”

He shrugs. “I tried, but all they say to me is beep.”

“What?”

Erin ignores him when he repeats his statement. She heads to his desk and picks up the phone. Rather than a dial tone, all she hears is a long, low-pitched beep. Retrieving her cell phone, which she located a few days prior, she tries to place an outgoing call to her mother. It doesn’t ring; instead, the application closes.

“Abby!”

“Hold your horses,” Abby shouts back, from somewhere on the second floor. She dips her head through the fire pole hole. “What?”

“The phones are down.”

A moment of silence lapses between them. Abby frowns. “Land-line or cell?”

“Both. Abby, it’s not getting better. It’s getting worse. So much worse.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Kevin puts in. “It’s always darkest before the Dawn.”

“Wow. That’s impressive, buddy. Exactly on point for the situation and stated correctly--”

He frowns. “I never really understood what darkness and dish soap had to do with each other.”

Abby sighs. “And there it is.”

“Guys, can we focus? The phones are down."

“I know. I heard you. I think it’s time we took a trip down to town hall. If we can’t get them on the phone, we might as well go pound on the door. We need some answers.”

Erin quails at the thought of going outside. She’s not so good in a fight. “Do you really think it’s safe out there?”

“Erin, it’s been a while. Nobody could be so constantly violent, right?”

“Right,” Erin agrees doubtfully.

“So, we go out in the car, get what we need, and come home. Simple.”

“Simple.”

0-0-0

Venturing into the world, as it turns out, is far from simple. Holtz is designated to stay behind because she’s working on creating something super neat and great--or so she claims--and she says she’ll look after Matthew. The rest of them exit the building in a tense group and cross the parking lot. The Ecto-1 is where they left it, but the back window has been smashed in and there’s a crudely drawn penis spray painted across the ghost design.

Abby slides into the driver’s seat and tests the engine. When she deems the car driveable, everyone else piles in. Erin gingerly brushes the glass of the backseat before she sits. Abby drives slowly, avoiding piles of debris, unwary pedestrians, and damage to the road. Erin squeezes her eyes shut and tries to avoid looking at the destruction. By the time they reach town hall, her cheeks hurt from the effort.

“Someone has to stay with the car.” Abby glances at Kevin, whose size will be an effective deterrent to anyone looking to cause trouble. “Kev?”

“Can do, boss.”

“Don’t wander away.”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t let anyone in.”

“I won’t.”

Patty grips his arm. “Kevin, baby, stay with the car.”

“I won’t,” he promises.

“Want me to stay with him?”

Abby nods. “C’mon, Gilbert. I guess it’s me and you.”

Erin pops the door open and steps into the daylight. Abby takes her hand, and she’s embarrassingly grateful for the physical show of support. Together, they head up the stairs and push on the front entrance. Thankfully, they meet no resistance--not even a lock. Abby comments on how lucky this is, but the fact that there’s no one in the lobby makes Erin extremely nervous.

“Hello?” Abby’s voice rings out through the empty space, and they get no response.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.” Erin tugs in a vain attempt to leave.

“We have to check it out.”

“Do we, though?”

“They pay our bills, Er. We sorta owe it to them to see if they need any help in here.”

“Fine. But first sign of trouble--”

“--we’re out of here.”

The first floor is void of life. There’s evidence of struggle, from overturned potted plants to crookedly hung paintings. At one point, Erin finds a spatter of what she hopes isn’t blood smeared on the wall. Cresting the stairs, she hears something in a closet and tugs the door open. She nearly cries at the sight of Ms. Lynch, crouching in the corner with her hands covering her head.

“Please, don’t hurt me.”

Erin lifts her hand. “That’s not why we’re here, Ms. Lynch.”

Ms. Lynch flinches before she turns to meet Erin’s gaze. “Dr. Gilbert.”

“Dr. Yates is here as well. We came to see what was happening.”

“They…” Ms. Lynch trails off and wipes at her cheeks. “They took him.”

“Who took whom?”

“People in masks,” she clarifies. “Took Robert.”

“Robert.”

“Mayor Bradley.”

Erin realizes that her earlier statement is painfully true. Things are indeed getting worse and worse.


	6. Chapter 6

“Well, that’s not the best thing I’ve heard today.” Abby props her hands against her hips and grimaces. She appraises Jennifer’s hunched shoulders and close proximity to Erin. “Look, it’s not much, but you can come back to the firehouse with us for now. We have some food and electricity, and we can make sure you’re safe.”

“But the mayor--”

“We don’t have much to go on.”

Erin rubs the small of Jennifer’s back. “Can you remember anything else about whoever took him?”

She shakes her head. “He told me to run. I--I did. I left him there.”

“You did the right thing,” Erin says, her voice even despite the circumstances. “He wanted you to be okay--”

“Are you saying he’s not okay?” Jennifer flinches back.

“I’m saying that he was looking out for you.”

“So, the best thing you can do,” Abby adds, “is keep fulfilling that wish of his. He wants you safe. We can give you protection until we figure this out.”

Jennifer straightens her shoulders, sniffling but sobering. “Fine. You’re right. Without the police, forensic evidence, or video surveillance, there’s no point in waiting around here for something to happen.”

“Without the police,” Erin repeats. She licks her lips. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sure there are some precincts left.”

Abby grabs their elbows and drags them toward the front of the building. “Let’s talk about this at home. I’m sure everyone else will want to know, too.”

Following a bit slowly, Erin processes what this means. Help isn’t coming, at least not anytime soon. When they step into the sunlight, she glances up and down the street. Cars are smashed together, graffiti has overtaken vertical surfaces, and a few lumps that very well could be bodies slump against the sidewalk. Nobody is coming to fix any of this. They’re alone.

0-0-0

“Hey, Matthew.” Patty squats down and cups his chin. “We have to talk about some grown up stuff.”

He fidgets with the hem of his Power Rangers t-shirt. “Okay.”

“Think you can brush your teeth by yourself and get some pajamas on?”

“Yes, Aunt Patty.”

“Go on, then. I’ll be upstairs in a little bit to tuck you in. Okay?”

“Okay.”

As soon as he disappears up to the second floor, Patty turns to the gathered adults behind her. She gestures to Jennifer, who stares grimly back at her.

“Mayor Bradley received a call shortly before phone service halted. The sergeant on the line informed him that a group of men invaded the station.”

“Musta been white men,” Patty mutters. “They stormed a police station and didn’t get shot?”

Jennifer shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know the details. Mayor Bradley said there was gunfire in the background. The call cut off, and the man who picked up the phone when Robert called back was not the sergeant. Apparently, this was a movement across the city. If the police weren’t willing to help, the people will help themselves, he said.”

Erin falters, ducking down into a crouch with her head braced between the heels of her palms. “This isn’t happening.”

Abby shoots a look at Holtz, who stares mournfully at Erin, and then dips down beside Erin herself. “It is, Er. We have to come to terms with that sooner rather than later. The good news is that we’re here, together, and we can protect each other.”

“Not all of us are here,” Erin replies, dragging a wrist across her eyes to wipe away a few hasty tears. “My parents--”

“Aren’t in the city. I bet nothing like this is happening outside major population hubs.”

“It could be…”

“Yeah, maybe. But there’s no good in thinking like that. If you don’t have hope, then you’ve got nothing.”

“Erin.” Holtz joins them on the floor. “We’re going to make it through this, and I promise you that the moment all of this is over, we’ll take a trip to visit your parents, so you can see that they’re okay.”

“But they might not be--”

“We’re not going to argue about Schroedinger’s parents,” Holtz interrupts. “Until we know for certain, they are both alive and dead, so just focus on the set of parents that’s still kicking.”

“I… I can do that.” Erin firms her resolve and stands again, dragging both friends up with her.

Holtz slaps her back. “Great. Then onto the next order of business. We are the only place in town with power. I think we need to keep that under wraps for now, unless we want the building ransacked. I’m thinking we board up the windows upstairs, too, so nobody can see in at night.”

“Won’t that be obvious?”

“Nah. We got all sorts of expensive junk in here. People will just think we’re trying to keep our money safe.”

“Junk?” Jennifer cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve been using your funding to buy junk?”

Holtz smirks back. “You know what they say--one woman’s junk is another woman’s proton gatling gun.”

0-0-0

Erin is forced to admit two days later that stealing may have to become an option. She still feels rather strongly that there’s nothing moral about committing the actual act, but she’d rather be guilty of a crime than let a little boy starve once their food runs out. Abby offers to let her stay back with Holtz, as a way to keep her conscious clear, but she refuses. She can’t just let other people take risks for her own benefit.

She sits in the back of the Ecto-1 and picks at her cuticles--a habit she’d developed as a child and had been scolded out of her by her mother. Thoughts of her mother still her hands. She isn’t sure whether there’s a God, but she prays nonetheless, in the hopes that someone out there is keeping watch over her family.

When the Ecto-1 halts at the curb outside of a Walgreens, Erin takes several deep breaths. There were little mom-and-pop stores that were closer, but she’d convinced her friends that if they were doing this, then they couldn’t hurt local businesses. Instead, they would take from larger chains because her conscious wouldn’t mind nearly as much.

The door is already smashed in.

Erin steps out of the car and gingerly makes her way through the broken glass by the entryway. From the silence within, she determines that the original looters are long gone. Abby hands her some cloth bags.

“We’re looking mostly for essentials,” Abby reminds her.

Patty waits in the car, her fingernails drumming against the steering wheel. Erin draws her attention back to the moment. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she nods. Together, they enter; Abby heads immediately for the cereal aisle, so Erin meanders closer to the toiletries. She stops short in front of the bottles of shampoo and conditioner, tears prickling behind her eyes.

This is not the right time for a break down, she informs herself sternly. But looking at this perfectly normal, undisturbed row of bottles reminds her of how different her life has rudely and abruptly become. She rubs the sore skin beneath her eyes, which is raw from that very same action occurring over and over. Later. She can cry her heart out later.

For now, she snags a couple tubes of toothpaste, some fresh brushes, and some floss. On a whim, she also selects a few different deodorants and razors. When she feels strong enough, she returns to the shampoo and conditioner. While she hopes this doesn’t last much longer, she doesn’t want her hair to get greasy in the meantime.

The next place she combs through is the candy aisle. A few items have already been raided, but there’s still a pretty good selection of treats to choose from. She notes there are still bags of Bull’s Eyes left, which are a particular favorite of Holtzmann’s. Deciding there was nothing overtly flirtatious about bringing them home for Holtz, she adds them to her satchel. 

Finally, she stops by the rather limited display of toys. She decides on two decks of playing cards, a Cars ball for Matthew, and a travel-sized magnetic chess set. A passing whim convinces her to grab a Rubik’s cube for Holtz to fidget with when the need to stim arises.

Satisfied that her end of this has been completed, she drags her haul to the register and snags a flyer from the counter. On the back, she scrawls a list of everything she took. When Abby approaches, she catalogues everything in Abby’s bags as well. Abby doesn’t comment but merely waits patiently for Erin to finish.

“So we can come back and pay for everything,” Erin says, feeling lame.

“Good plan, Gilbert.” 

Patty helps them load the back of the vehicle. If either of them notice the red rim to Erin’s eyes, they don’t say anything. Erin settles in the back seat and stares down the street. With everything that is happening, she wishes she could just sink into Holtz’s arms. She wishes they had been together before this, so there was no weirdness. Instead, she had to be strong by herself.


	7. Chapter 7

The next trip, Erin maintains her list. Same with the third and fourth. But on the fifth excursion, she silently places the scrap of paper with her tiny, detailed handwriting in a public garbage can. Abby tacitly doesn’t mention this change, and Erin doesn’t bring it up. 

They clean through another Walgreens, this time being less particular about what they take. Just over a month into what seems like the end of the world, and nothing is better. Erin ran out of tears weeks ago, leaving space for an icy numbness to spread through her like poison. She steals without comment. She stops smiling except for a pained expression that tugs on her lips whenever Holtz tries to make a joke. She exists, but she’s not sure how much longer wants to continue. She misses her anti-depressants. She hates the never-ending feeling that some fresh horror is waiting around every corner.

“Erin?”

She slams the back of the Ecto-1 and turns to face Patty. “Yes?”

“I just…” Patty touches her shoulder, feather-light. “I just want to make sure you’re doing okay. We’ve all been struggling lately, but you seem to have taken everything really hard.”

Erin shrugs. Withdrawing from her friends isn’t going to change anything--but nothing’s going to help anyway, so she doesn’t see why she should bother.

0-0-0

She marches into the firehouse, ignoring the sound of gunfire somewhere in the distance. When the sirens died out two weeks prior, other awful noises had risen up to fill the absence. The screams were the worst, especially in the dark of the night when she couldn’t sleep and was stuck staring at the ceiling and praying, praying, praying for all of this to be over. On average, she sleeps two hours a night, and the exhaustion makes her sluggish.

The moment she’s through the door, Matthew grabs her hand. “Help.”

She freezes. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

“Upstairs,” he murmurs. His eyes are wide and frightened. “Jill.”

The bags she’s carrying spill to the floor as she runs as fast as she can for the second floor. She skids into the space that serves as Holtzmann’s experimental lab--where all great ideas are born and tested, before they probably explode. Kevin stands near a toppled shelving unit, his hands gripping the metal. Jenn is at his elbow slapping his shoulder. Even from a distance, she can hear Jenn urging him not to lift it. Not yet.

Erin skids to a halt when she spots Holtzmann on the ground. Holtz is pale and sweaty, with her fists clenched over her belly. One leg twitches beside the shelving unit; the other is buried completely beneath metal and half-baked inventions. Erin drops to her knees and crawls forward. She cups Holtz’s cheeks, and Holtz blearily opens an eye.

“Er-bear,” she grits out. “Didn’t think… I’d see you before…”

“Before…” Erin feels panic rising hot and fresh in her chest. She shifts her gaze down Holtz’s body and spots the ugly maroon stain on Holtz’s slacks. She sees how deep the shelf is embedded in Holtz’s flesh. She can’t unsee any of this and knows that this image will be seared into her eyelids for the rest of her life.

Patty and Abby gasp at the sight, and Patty hurries to cuddle Matthew to her side. Abby stutters out a question--what happened?

Matthew bawls as he explains that he and Holtz were securing the windows when something really loud happened outside, and the building got really shaky. The shelf was going to hit him, but Holtz got him out of the way, but then she fell down instead.

Erin trembles. “Holtz, you saved him.”

Holtz manages a grin, although her eyes lose focus. “Last request, Er.”

“You’re going to be fine. You’re--”

“Gimme kiss?”

Erin kisses her without hesitation. She holds her lips to Holtz’s until Holtz goes slack.

Jenn grabs her shoulder and pulls her back. “If we’re going to save her, we have to work fast. The shelf is helping stave off fatal blood loss, but that won’t be effective forever. I need a sharp blade, a blow torch, something flat and metal, gloves, and antiseptic. Bandages, too, and gauze. I don’t suppose you have strong pain killers around?”

There’s a moment of silence. Erin offers a tentative: “No, not really. What… what are you doing?”

“Saving her life.” Jenn snaps her fingers. “Are you going to help me?”

“How?”

“We don’t have time for this. I’ll explain later.”

Patty is the first to snap to attention. She shoves Matthew toward the stairs. “Matt, we need you to stay downstairs for now. Can you do that?”

He nods and disappears.

Abby helps Erin up. “Erin and I will go back to Walgreens and see if we can’t break into the pharmacy in back. What should we grab?”

Jenn lists off some complicated sounding drugs, while Abby nods. Shell-shocked, Erin can only stand mutely and stare at Holtz’s unconscious form until Abby all but drags her back outside.

0-0-0

Back at the Walgreens, Erin nearly trips over every small uneven crack in the sidewalk. Everything feels intensely surreal, and she’s fairly certain that none of this is actually happening. This isn’t her life. This isn’t her body.

“Erin, c’mon.”

She trails after Abby, who spends ten fruitless minutes hacking at the lock on the pharmacy door. Erin walks to the front of the store and finds the fire extinguisher; on returning the rear, she pushes Abby aside and brutally slams the device down again and again and again, even after the knob is on the floor. Abby tries the door once more, but there is likely a bolt on the other side.

“What now?”

With the door knob off, there’s a small hole. Erin rolls her sleeve up and jams her hand through. The pain she feels reminds her that this is real, and she’s sure she’s shaved several layers of skin off. She can’t quite get far enough inside to reach the lock with her straining fingers, but the action gives Abby the idea to grab supplies from around the store. Getting the lock undone takes precious time, and Erin just knows that Holtz will be dead by the time they get back.

Finally, the door swings open. The next problem is finding the appropriate medication. Abby finds the right section of supplies but loudly exclaims they don’t have time to sort through things. She jams everything within reach into a plastic bag. Erin eyes the anti-depressants and does the same thing. If Holtz doesn’t make it, then she’s going to need them to keep going.

0-0-0

Six hours later, Jenn peels her gloves off. She stands back and stares at the bloody mess in front of her. Erin clutches Holtz’s limp hand.

“Will she be okay?”

“I did an open amputation, to help drain in case of infection--because, let’s be real, this is hardly a hygienic environment. It could be days before she wakes up, if she does, but I… I think we got this done before too much blood could be lost.” Jenn meets her gaze. “I wish I could be more certain, but…”

Erin nods. “I know.”

“We’ll need to keep her bandages clean and fresh, and we need to monitor her vitals as best we can. We don’t have access to a drip, so intake is going to be a concern.”

“Are you sure we can’t get her to a hospital?”

“We’d need an ambulance. But the roads are so poor, the ride would probably do more harm than good, and there’s no guarantee any of them are open.”

“So, we just wait?”

“And hope.”

And pray, Erin adds silently. She clutches Holtz’s hand a little tighter.

0-0-0

On the second day, Jenn manages to rouse Holtz, who is feverish and lost in a haze of delirium. Somehow, she manages to get Holtz to swallow spoonfuls of applesauce with vitamins ground to dust and mixed inside.

0-0-0

“Please, Holtz.” Erin barely leaves her side, except when the others want a moment alone or when she can’t keep her eyes open any longer. “You have to wake up. I haven’t--we haven’t… Please.”

0-0-0

A howl wakes Erin up in the dark of the night. She knows that voice, even with strains of utter agony twisting it away from its usual playful lilt. Sprinting, she makes it to Holtz’s side a few moments after Jenn. Holtz’s gaze is clearer now, even as her mouth is open. The scream has subsided, but not for lack of pain.

Erin grabs her hand afresh. “Holtz, you’re going to be okay.”

“Kill me,” Holtz begs.

“Take this.” Jenn forces a plain white pill into Holtz’s mouth and presses a glass of water to her lips. Holtz resists as long as possible before swallowing. Her head falls back on her pillow.

“Don’t give up, Jill,” Erin murmurs, placing her lips by Holtz’s ear. “I love you. Come back to me.”

0-0-0

“Erin?”

She lifts her head and meets Holtz’s gaze. Inching forward, she feels as though she’s breathing for the first time in two weeks. “Are you--how are you? That’s a stupid question. I’m sorry.”

Holtz shakes her head slowly. “Is Matthew okay?”

“He is.”

“Good.”


	8. Chapter 8

Erin sits at Holtz’s side and pushes food around her plate. She’s not hungry, not really, but Abby forces her to eat something three times a day, and she’s not strong enough to say no. She’s never strong enough, not in the ways that matter. Holtz is struggling, and all she can do is feel miserable for her own lot in life.

“What’s with the look?”

Erin shrugs. “What look? There’s no look.”

Holtz cocks an eyebrow. “That one. Right there. On your face.”

Forcing a smile, Erin shakes her head. She’s not allowed to show her sadness to Holtz--Holtz who has lost a leg, who is in pain every waking moment, who manages to worry about her through everything.

“Sorry. I was just spacing out.”

“Y’know, you used to have this little smirk when you were deep in thought. I miss that.”

“And I miss having to constantly put your fires out.”

Holtz reaches down and massages the skin above her stump. Six days ago, Jenn had finished suturing the site, putting Holtz on her way to fully healing. Before bed each night, Holtz chokes down a codeine-based pill, very much against her will but solely with the purpose of sleeping all the way through. In a world gone mad, she doesn’t want to become addicted to a pill that may not be available for her cravings. Instead, she limits herself to a Tylenol in the morning and whenever the pain gets to be too much.

Erin is in awe of her self-control. Were she in a similar situation, she isn’t sure she wouldn’t take too many pills just to drown the world around her out. Holtzmann has always been impressive in many ways, and Erin is almost tricked into thinking that Holtzmann doesn’t mind losing a limb. Holtz still smiles. Holtz eats heartily and laughs heartily and lives heartily.

But in the quiet moments, when she thinks nobody is looking--but Erin is always looking--she grimaces and lets the pain show on her face. Erin’s seen silent tears and clenched fists. She’s heard the barely audible curse words, self-deprecation, and pleas for answers. Part of her wishes Holtz will let her help--but she’s so very scared of caring. They haven’t spoken about Erin kissing her, and Erin doesn’t want to. This whole trauma has shown her how brutal and brief life can be.

How easy it would be to love Holtz and lose her.

“Well, I can set a few, if you’d like,” Holtz replies.

“On second thought…”

“Just let me know.”

Erin touches Holtz’s elbow with her fingertips. “How are you holding up?”

“I can’t wait to build myself a bionic leg. We can rebuild him. We have the technology. We can make him better than he was. Better, stronger, faster.”

Jokes are Holtz’s coping mechanism, as totally falling apart seems to be Erin’s of late. Erin is loath to tear through Holtz’s walls, especially when she’s not certain of what’s on the other side. Years of therapy, however, convince her that bottling it all up isn’t healthy, so she keeps trying to at least scratch a layer of paint from walls that are likely holding Holtz together.

“Well, that’s true. I just want you to know that you don’t have to be okay with me.” She sets her hand more solidly against the crook of Holtz’s arm.

Holtz smiles onward, as if there is nothing hiding beneath her grin but happiness. “Thanks, sweet cheeks.”

“I can’t help but feel like something’s different now.”

“Well, to start with, I don’t have a whole right leg.”

Erin turns away so that Holtz can’t see her lower lip trembling. After a moment, she manages a clear, unshaken voice: “That’s true, I guess.”

Holtz shifts and sighs. “Would you mind getting me another pillow?”

Grateful for an excuse to leave the room and compose herself, Erin wobbles to her feet and hurries away.

0-0-0

“I’m not okay.” Holtz won’t meet her eyes, not even when she catches her fingers under Holtz’s chin and tries to lift. “I’ve been trying to be because you’re not, either, and we--we can’t all fall apart, y’know?”

Erin shuffles back a step. “I didn’t--this isn’t a competition. You’re allowed to be--”

“I know I’m allowed to be,” Holtz snaps. She squeezes her eyes shut. Her voice pitches up. “I know. I know, I know. It’s driving me crazy how much people need me to know just how bad I’m allowed to feel.”

Despite her effort to remain nonplussed, Erin shrinks back from Holtz’s raised voice. As a child, her parent’s screams were never at her--but she remembers their heated arguments, the slamming of cabinets, and the hateful glares the next morning over breakfast. Her mother believed her about the ghost for two glorious weeks, before her father had his way and put her into therapy. Years later, she still feels that terror that raised voices lead to rejection.

“Okay,” she ekes out.

Holtz scratches and scratches at the skin above the bandages. She digs her nails in, leaving stark red lines in their wake. “Why’d you let her do this to me?”

“I didn’t… There was no other option…” Erin isn’t sure her meek voice carries across the meager distance between them.

And suddenly, Holtz is in tears, clinging to her blouse and hiding against her shoulder. She rocks slowly to and fro, emotionally frayed but determined. They remain pressed together until Holtz sags down, and Erin deduces that she’s fallen asleep.

0-0-0

Although Holtz spends a lot of time sleeping, Erin takes to sitting beside her and reading out loud from some of Patty’s books. She starts with some local history but finds the writer’s style dry and a bit dull. That book is discarded in favor of the first Harry Potter book, as Erin gives up on furthering her personal education. She hasn’t read the series, much to Patty and Abby’s chagrin, but she’d never seen the point in them before.

There were so many more interesting ideas to tackle--reality is full of mysteries, so she didn’t feel the need to explore the unknown through literature. Now, though, she has too much time and a desire to be anywhere but where she is. So, she goes to Hogwarts.

She tells Holtz about Harry’s first trip to Diagon Alley, discusses her views on which sort of pet, if any, she would bring with her, and puzzles over what house she might end up in. When Holtz is awake, she participates in these discussions, but her mind is elsewhere. Erin searches Holtz’s gaze and doesn’t find much.

“You’d be a Ravenclaw, easy,” Holtz says, picking at a fingernail.

“You think?”

“You’re all about the knowledge.”

Erin traces a finger down the spine of the Chamber of Secrets. She’s finished with the Sorcerer’s Stone but hasn’t yet started the next adventure. She doesn’t think she’s all that smart. Hardworking, perhaps, but her intelligence isn’t exactly innate. She’s fought so hard throughout her life to be smart enough.

“What about you?”

Holtz is silent for several long moments. She rolls partially onto her side, careful to leave her hips and lower flat. Erin realizes the conversation is over; escapism is lovely, but some terrible things are impossible to evade. Erin clears her throat and starts the first chapter. She doesn’t think Holtz is listening, but she keeps it up until her throat is too tired to continue.

0-0-0

Erin helps Holtz sit up as soon as Jenn removes the bandages and deems the healing process good enough. Holtz snags a long pole that’s got some t-shirts wrapped around the top and tucks the softer end under her armpit. She tries to stand, but even with the help of both Erin and the pole, she topples back down and stares at the wall.

“It’ll just take some time.”

Holtz grins. “That’s the spirit, Gilbert.”

Erin wants to trust the enthusiasm in Holtz’s tone, but after everything she’s seen over the past month, she’s not sure she should. She can’t voice her doubt, however, so she merely takes Holtz by the elbow and helps her up once more.

“Start small,” Jenn advises. “Stand up a few times a day, but until you can do that again, you’ll need to strengthen your remaining leg again. We’ll put you on the rolling chair, so you can push yourself along with your foot. Once you’re up, we’ll talk about a physical therapy regime to help you stay up.”

Holtz manages to hop a few feet forward. When she falls back, Erin is there to catch her. When Erin chastises her for not starting small at all, Holtz winks.

“Maybe I just wanted to be in your arms.”

“Maybe next time you should just ask.”

Holtz waits a beat and then asks, “Really?”

“Really,” Erin confirms, her voice small.

Holtz wiggles out of her grasp and manages to return to her mattress without help. She settles herself among her blankets and rests her head on her pillow. After a moment, she spits out, “I don’t want your pity.”


	9. Chapter 9

Erin drops onto the couch next to Abby and buries her head in her hands. Abby is tactful enough not to ask any questions and merely throws an arm around Erin’s shoulders. In the armchair across the small space, Patty tilts her head. She might know the dangers in asking, but she’s disinterested in beating around the bush.

“What’s goin’ on with Holtzy now?”

“She thinks I pity her.”

“Do you?”

Erin tugs on a strand of hair and shrugs. “Not her, exactly. The situation? I… I don’t know what I’d do if I were her. How I’d manage.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be around you, either,” Patty jokes, her tone gentle. “Baby, if you were down and feeling shitty, would you want someone lookin’ at you like you were broken?”

“But she is! She--she lost her leg.”

“That don’t make her broken.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Erin says. She stares down at her hands as her fingers fidget with the hem of her blouse. “I really care about her. And I could have lost her… We all could have.”

“Don’t tell me now’s when you chose to make your move.” Abby slaps her forehead before beseeching the heavens for answers. 

“I won’t, then. I just… It felt right, okay? But she hates me now, so I messed it all up worse than I did before.”

“She doesn’t hate you. If anything, she’s frustrated with herself.”

Erin blinks and hesitates. “Why? What happened wasn’t her fault--”

“Er, she came onto you at her best, and you turned her down. Now, she’s not feeling so great, and you finally come around. What sort of message does that send?”

“Oh.”

Patty fills in the blank: “She wasn’t good enough for you before. Now, she don’t feel half as good as she used to, and half of not good enough…”

“Still not good enough,” Abby finishes. “Why would you want her now, except because you pity her.”

Mind churning, Erin staggers to her feet and shifts to her closet, where she can shut the door, close out the world, and feel very, very small. She slumps against the wall with her knees tugged tight to her chest. Counting her breaths, she tries to calm the erratic thumping of her heart.

This happens too often--she thinks she knows the basic facts. She thinks everything will go according to a nice little plan in her head. Only things don’t always line up with her expectations. Back at Columbia, she thought she’d get her tenure, and she’d spend the rest of her life teaching. Instead, she was fired. She expected the world to continue on as it always had--and look at life now. She presses her fingertips to her temples.

She thought she had a handle on the relationship between herself and Holtz, yet everything is jumbled now. 

She shuts her eyes and focuses on her breathing--in and out and in and out--until she falls asleep.

0-0-0

“Have we thought about growing stuff on the roof?”

Tired and sore, Erin shakes her head. “Are we really just accepting that this is going to be a seriously long-term problem?”

Patty lifts a hand in a non-committal fashion. “I’d rather be prepared. That’s all I’m saying. Gonna be real rough if we hit winter without supplies. We can keep it warm inside, but can we keep ourselves fed?”

“You’re right. And plants on the roof could really help with insulation. That way, if something goes wrong and…” Erin aborts her thought. She clears her throat. “It’s a good idea, Patty. How can I help?”

“I was actually going to see if Matt would want to help me plant. It’d be something for him to do, other than sit and worry all the time.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get him better toys on our trips out.”

“Not your fault. He’s just struggling, like we are, and he was already quiet to begin with. It’d be nice if we could get into contact with his parents, y’know? Let him know they’re okay.”

“I’ll help you keep him distracted, then, if you want. He’s a smart kid. I could teach him some basic science or math. Maybe Abby could walk him through some science, too, or art. Did you know she’s actually a pretty great painter? And you could do some history lessons. And Holtz.”

Patty lets her thought sit, jagged and unfinished. After a moment, she glosses over the misstep. “We’ll find something for him to do. Don’t want him getting bored, after all. Imagine the havoc he could wreak in here with too much energy and no outlets.”

Erin thinks of Holtz’s unbridled enthusiasm and knows very well what someone acting as Patty described could do. She’s not about to argue the point, so she smiles with her lips pressed tightly together. Thanks to the anti-depressants she grabbed at the pharmacy, her moods have slowly begun to level off. This has helped a great deal, even if she hasn’t yet mustered enough energy to be genuinely happy. At the very least, her smiles no longer look like painful mistakes.

0-0-0

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Holtz announces as she scoots across the expanse. Her stump bounces along as she hits a bump, and Erin has to drag her gaze up to Holtz’s face.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“Oh, Erin, I always want to see you.” Holtz winks. “Especially when you’re about to get in the shower--”

“Holtz,” Erin cuts in. “You’re really sending me mixed signals.”

“Aaaand you weren’t sending the same before?”

Holtz has a point, and Erin flinches back. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Me, too. I don’t mean to be an asshole. With the leg gone, though, I have a much higher asshole-to-other-body-part ratio than I did before.”

“You have a right to be angry.”

Holtz pantomimes talking with her hand and then flaps her fingers to the side. “Did you know that Jenn almost got through med school?”

“She was telling us about that the other night.”

“Pretty weird how things happen, isn’t it? She was going to be so hot rich doctor, and instead, she ended up fetching coffees for the mayor.”

“Pretty sure she did more than that.”

“Semantics.”

“What’s your point?”

“Accidents happen. She couldn’t have predicted the stuff that happened to her dad, or that she’d be the only one willing to take care of him.” Holtz scoots toward her work bench. “But maybe she could have foreseen losing her enrollment. Dominoes fall, yeah, but how much do we influence the pattern?”

“Someone set the dominoes up, didn’t they?”

“And someone knocked them down.”

Erin isn’t sure what they’re talking about anymore. “Holtz, is this about--”

“Patty tells me that you guys are starting a garden on the roof.”

“Yes.”

Holtz grins and fumbles through her materials. Apparently not finding her target, she yanks a drawer open and roots around. Finally, she pulls out a small plastic bag. “You should get her to plant these.”

Erin examines the seeds inside the bag and cocks her head. “What are they?”

“Something fun, I promise.”

“Holtz, is this marijuana?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Gilbert.”

“I’m not surprised that you smoke--but I am a little surprised that you grow.”

“I don’t. I did a favor for my dealer, though, and I was in a non-smoking period of my life. So, he gave me those instead of weed as payment. Never had a chance to use ‘em. He was going to set up a grow-house, y’know, cut out his supplier and be his own boss. But I bet that idea’s in the shitter right now.”

“I’m not sure--”

“Look, it’s got medicinal purposes. It’ll help take the edge off of my super tragic injury.” Holtz’s voice drops somewhat dangerously.

Erin takes a step back. “Holtz, I need you to know that I don’t pity you.”

“Hah, okay. Sure.”

“Will you just listen to me?” Erin doesn’t wait for an answer; she careens into her desperate explanation, stuttering through her words and dropping the ends of uncomfortable sentences. “I care about you, and I didn’t want to be with you just because something awful had happened. But when your accident happened, I realized that I didn’t want to be with you just because the horrible event but the horrible event helped me see my feelings for what they were. Does that make any sense? And I--I love you. I’d love you even if the world weren’t completely crazy right now. I’d love you with both legs or one leg or no legs.”

When Erin pauses to suck in a breath, Holtz quietly asks, “How about with three legs?”

Erin laughs and steps forward. “I draw the line at four.”

“Damn.” Holtz scoots her chair closer. She grips Erin’s elbow and draws her lower. Their breathing mingles, and Erin searches Holtz's gaze for everything and nothing. “What’s your limit on arms.”

“Shut up,” Erin commands, dragging Holtz into a kiss.


	10. Chapter 10

Five months pass all too quickly.

Erin stands at the edge of the roof and stares out at the city. Half a year ago, there was hardly a moment of the day when something wasn’t happening--someone was always moving or fighting or loving. The streets she’s currently looking down on are eerily still, and she only occasionally hears a loud noise in the distance that reminds her that other people survived this long as well. She’s not naive enough to think everyone has made it, but she hasn’t received visual confirmation in much too long.

Jenn comes to stand beside her. “I don’t think anyone’s coming to help.”

“No,” Erin agrees quietly.

“As the mayor’s assistant, I prepared for a lot of catastrophic events. Fires. Floods. Terrorist attacks. But this? I don’t even know what this is.”

“The last time I talk to my mom, she said something about this all seeming a little religious. Out in the Midwest, they were hit with fireballs raining from the sky. Seems a lot like God’s rage, doesn’t it?”

“But which God?” Jenn traces her fingers along the rim of the roof’s ledge. She grimaces and turns, resting her back where her fingers had just been. “I guess in the long run it doesn’t matter, does it? Maybe none of this was laid out in the Christian bible, maybe not in any other religious text, either. But it happened.”

“What comes next?”

“No idea.”

Erin rests against her elbows and watches the sun dip down to the horizon. There’s someone screaming somewhere to the west--but the shriek cuts out quickly. Doing her best not to shudder, Erin closes her eyes and tries not to think about how dismal the future will be.

0-0-0

The first leg Holtz creates is incredibly simplistic. In fact, Abby jokes that Holtz may as well have made her peg leg from wood and gone to sea as a pirate. Holtz waves the teasing off, but Erin notes a lack of energy in Holtz’s stumble across the room. She supposes that Abby’s comment may have felt more like an attack than an attempt at lightening the mood, especially given Holtz’s recent propensity for feeling defeated by the circumstances.

Her bad moods are like high tides--they come crashing in, dampening everything within reach, but slowly but surely, they recede. The damage is visible to those who know what to look for, but eventually, everything dries out, and Holtz can pretend like she’s perfectly fine. Inevitably, however, the water will rise once more, and the calm beach of Holtz’s chill attitude will drown.

Erin is willing to brave the ravages of Holtz’s tidal tendencies. She tugs on metaphorical rain boots to stand in the shallows, calling out reminders that high tide isn’t permanent. Holtz usually retreats to a corner when her vehemence has run dry, and, caught in the rip-tide, Erin follows. They sit silently together until Holtz mutters a quiet apology, which Erin invariably accepts.

“I think it’s cool,” Patty puts in, before Holtz’s mood can dive beyond recovery.

“It’s just to get me up and moving again,” Holtz replies. She’s dismissive of the support, but Erin knows just how much she appreciates Patty’s kindness. “I’ll definitely build something way better by next week.”

Abby, apparently aware of her social faux pas, gently slaps Holtz’s back. “I bet you will. You’re a genius, Holtzmann. If anyone can make a kick-ass prosthetic, it’s you.”

Holtz grins and reaches to fiddle playfully with her yellow-lensed glasses. “A-thank you.”

The threat of high tide is much lower, so Erin releases her nervous energy in the form of a small sigh and heads for the kitchenette. She can still hear Abby and Holtz bantering, and she can pretend that everything is just fine and normal.

0-0-0

“Please!”

Erin helps Holtz down the stairs. The others are already gathered by the front entrance, transfixed by the feminine voice coming from outside.

“If you’re in there, please,” the voice continues, “I need your help. There’s--there’s a ghost. I don’t know who else to come to. Please, let me in.”

Kevin places his hand on the knob, but Jenn grabs his wrist. “We don’t know who she is or what she really wants,” she hisses.

“She needs help,” Kevin replies, not bothering to modulate his volume.

“She says she needs help, but she could just be trying to get in here for our supplies.”

Patty grimaces. “But what if Kev’s right? What if she honestly needs help?”

“I can go up to the roof,” Erin offers. “I’ll see if she’s alone out there. Holtz can cut the electricity in here, and then we can let just her inside. If she’s telling the truth, then we can figure out what to do next.”

“And if she’s lying?”

“Let her go, I guess. We just don’t let her see anything important.”

“Go upstairs.” Abby nods. “We can’t just sit in here and not do anything. We’ve done that for months, and what has that gotten us?”

Patty raps on the door and calls, “Give us a minute, okay?”

“Please,” the voice returns.

Erin thunders up to the roof and winces as her thighs burn with the exertion. She’s not out of shape, but she definitely hasn’t been exercising enough. She used to jog every morning to clear her head, but that sort of cardio exercise hasn’t seemed prudent of late. Once out on the roof, she peers down at the front entrance and notes that there is a single woman at the door. Erin checks nearby hiding places and farther down the street. The woman is alone, as far as she can tell.

When Erin relays this news to the others, Patty helps Kevin unbolt the door and admit the stranger. The woman stumbles inside and repeats her gratitude over and over again.

“You said you’ve got a problem with a ghost?”

The woman stands a little straighter, and Erin notes how dirty her cheeks are. “Yes. It’s been going on for a while, but it got--it got violent two nights ago. I can’t--I can’t stay there anymore, not after what it did to Hazel.”

“Hazel?”

“My daughter.”

“Is Hazel somewhere safe?” Erin steps forward, concern for the child overriding her prudence.

“I hid her in an abandoned car a few blocks from here. She knows to hide under a blanket if anybody comes by.”

“Bring her here.”

Holtz places a hand on her lower back and nods. “We’ll do what we can about your ghost, but until then, we’d like to help keep your kid safe.”

“Just the kid, though.” Abby puffs and rephrases, “I mean, we’ll do what we can to keep both you and your child safe, but we don’t have the resources to take people in. We’ll watch Hazel for now, but it’s not permanent, and it’s just her.”

Erin shoots her a curious glance, but Abby won’t meet her eyes. She knows they don’t have enough to go around, and just letting the girl stay here is a substantial burden, but she feels bad that they have to limit what they can do.

“Thank you.”

“So, what’s going on with your ghost? What can you tell us?”

“It showed up not long after the--the bombs went off. The original bombs, I mean. If they were bombs. At first, it was just little things. Stuff going missing, doors opening and closing. As time passed, it seemed to focus most around Hazel. She told me that a voice whispered in her ear and told her secrets. I… I thought she just made up an imaginary friend--as, as a coping mechanism.

“But I went into her room one night when I heard a noise, and I saw something standing beside her bed. I got pushed out of the room, and the door slammed. I was able to open it again right away, and the thing was gone. And then two nights ago, I decided we needed to leave because it was getting worse, and it threw a kitchen knife at me when I tried to take Hazel out of the apartment.”

“When you saw it, did it have a definite shape and form?” Erin hurries back to her work space and grabs a pencil and paper. Given the state of the world, she wants to be as prepared as possible for this bust. There will be no backup if something goes sideways and no trips to the emergency room if someone gets injured.

“It looked--mostly human? I guess. It looked like a man, but with his definition blurred out.” The woman tugs on a dirty scrap of hair.

“And he’s able to manipulate physical objects,” Erin notes. “Can you provide us with a basic idea of the layout of your home?”

“Hold up,” Holtz interrupts. “Go get your kid, and then we can work through the details.”

The woman grabs Holtz’s hand and kisses her knuckles. “Thank you.”


	11. Chapter 11

Erin takes Hazel’s hand and walks the six-year-old girl over to the cozy reading area where Matthew is currently reading. He’s sprawled out on his stomach with his legs kicking up behind him, and he flips the page in his book with slow, careful fingers. He looks up as they approach, curious but shy.

“Hey, Matt. This is Hazel. Mind if she hangs out with you for a while?”

Matt scoots more upright and nods somberly. When Hazel sits beside him, he offers her his book. She takes the left side and peers at the words.

“Don’t know how,” she says. “What’s it?”

If Matt is at all cowed by Hazel’s loud voice, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he grins and tells her all about what’s happened so far. Erin knows he’s making things up, since he’s reading from one of Patty’s history tomes. She’s never seen him so open and animated before, and she relishes in the sight of him finally relaxing and having fun.

Erin watches a moment longer before returning to the huddle of adults near the door. She reports back on how well the children are getting along, which makes their visitor literally sag with relief.

“Did we get your name?”

“Eileen,” she replies, her gaze darting to her daughter.

“Well, Eileen, let’s try and get this problem sorted out, hm?” Abby places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “So, the layout of your apartment?”

Eileen explains everything and, on further consideration, recalls where most of the sharp and dangerous objects are. Despite never having done this before, they sit for half an hour debating strategy and team placement. There’s a single entrance to the fourth floor apartment, which means they’ll all have to enter from the same location. From that point, Abby wants to split into different directions, while Erin wants to stay together.

Patty lifts her hand. “In horror movies, it’s always when they split up that folks get killed.”

Holtz immediately agrees, and Abby gives in a moment later. Erin slips a hand along Holtz’s back, using the touch to steady herself. She’s not usually the one with good ideas for busts, and she feels empowered that both Patty and Holtz took her side. Holtz leans into her touch and asks to talk privately for a minute before they head out.

She escorts Holtz to a dark corner and, as they stand close together, brushes a strand of hair from Holtz’s face. She can’t believe she fought so hard against being close to one another. Being close to Holtz has helped ease much of her strife regarding the state of the world as they know it, and she relies heavily on Holtz’s usually chipper spirit to keep her smiling day after day. A healthy dose of antidepressants helps as well, but those might run out before long; she does her best to build up her happiness in other ways, just in case.

“Are you okay?” she murmurs.

Holtz reaches down to massage her leg. “Sore. That’s why I wanted to talk. I’m going to help on this bust, but then I think we need to really talk about someone taking my spot--”

“No,” Erin blurts. She swallows hard and straightens. “I mean, you aren’t going to get replaced, Jill. You’re integral to our team.”

“I’m better off here, working on equipment, rather than getting in the way. What if I stumble, and someone gets hurt?”

“Don’t count yourself out,” Erin rebuts vehemently. “We haven’t gone on a bust since it happened. We don’t know how you’ll do, and I for one think you’re going to perform admirably.”

There’s darkness in Holtz’s eyes. She searches Erin’s gaze and then looks away. “We’ll see.”

“Yeah. We will.” Erin grabs her wrist and kisses her knuckles. “Believe me, Holtzmann, because I believe in you.”

0-0-0

Erin goes first, pushing the door open and raising her weapon. The apartment shows signs of abuse, from the knife sticking out of the wall by the closet to the scratch marks tearing into the furniture. Behind her, the others trail slowly and glimpse the destruction silently. Because of the ghost’s fixation on Hazel, they head to her room to investigate.

The room reminds Erin of her childhood bedroom; stuffed animals line the windowsill, picture books fill out a small bookshelf, and a brightly colored comforter is folded neatly on the bed. A picture of Hazel and Eileen hugging is pinned to the wall above the bed’s headboard. At the foot of the bed is a rug, with two dark footprints stained into the fabric.

“Guys,” Abby whispers, bending low for a better look. “These were burned into the rug.”

Erin wipes one sweaty palm on her coveralls and then grips her proton gun more tightly. There’s almost too much pressure on this bust; this is their one chance to make the world feel a little more normal--to help a small child and her mother feel safe at home in an unsafe world. She wants to do well, but there’s so much that can go wrong.

Holtz hobbles to the girl’s bed and takes a seat. “So… how do we get this darling little benevolent spirit to come out and play?”

Patty slaps her hand against the wall. “Get out here already. C’mon. We don’t got all day.”

“Technically, we do.” Holtz flops back and stares up at the ceiling.

Erin imagines that the pose is meant to be funny, but it should also take some of the pressure off of Holtz’s leg. She wishes Holtz would just ask for help when she needs it, but she knows that Holtz is determined to do things her way. She is a little glad about this, though, because that means that Holtz will survive this bust all on her own and realize that she can’t just quit the team to become their tech monkey.

Curious, Erin pulls the closet open. Monsters lived in closets, she figures, and there’s no harm in poking around. When she pulls the string to turn the interior light on, a dark shape blasts past her and down the hall. Patty and Abby immediately scramble after it, leaving Erin to help Holtz back to her feet. They give chase as well, and Erin does her best not to worry about Holtz’s mobility.

“Living room!” Patty hollers. There’s a thud and a groan, which forces Erin faster.

Erin darts into the room and lifts the barrel of her gun. The ghost has, as predicted, a human form. What they hadn’t predicted is how firm it appears as it lifts Abby off the ground and squeezes her throat. Abby paws at its hands.

“I don’t want to shoot,” Patty says quickly. “Don’t want to risk hitting Abby.”

“No, you’re right.” Erin grabs the vase sitting on the chest of drawers to her left and throws it at the ghost’s head. The ghost’s head snaps a bit over, but the vase phases through.

Holtz skitters around the corner and, without waiting for more information, barrels toward the ghost. She shouts Abby’s name loudly and repeatedly as she careens into the ghost, knocking it aside and throwing Abby to the ground. The collision with the ground sends a spark up from Holtz’s leg, and she drags herself out of harm’s way as Abby stands up, and the three women blast the ghost with their proton wands.

Holtz releases and throws the trap beneath the ghost’s writhing form. “Buh-bye!” She slams the pad on the ground next to her, and the ghost swirls down with a howl.

“Abby, are you okay?” Erin examines the bruising imprint of the ghost’s hands on Abby’s neck. She traces a cautious finger down Abby’s throat.

Abby shrugs and tries to reply, but her voice comes out a stilted squeak. “Fine.”

“Girl, don’t try to talk,” Patty advises. “Gotta let your vocal cords heal.”

“Little help?”

Erin whirls around and spots Holtz still sprawled on the floor. “Oh, Holtz!”

“Just a little malfunction with the leg.” Holtz grins. “But damn. We did it, guys. We might not have a government, but we still have a purpose.”

As she helps Holtz up, Erin whispers, “Still want to sit out in the future?”

Holtz shakes her head. “No. But I definitely gotta make some upgrades to my leg. Do you think I could put some sort of launching device in there? So I could kneel, open up a compartment, and shoot a ghost?”

Erin laughs. “I think that you can make whatever you want, and it’ll work.”

Re-energized, they pack up the unit and leave. As they drive home, Erin finally musters the courage to propose a plan.

“Guys, I’m not comfortable sending a little girl back out into this mess.”

“We don’t have resources--”

“I know.” Erin lifts her hand. “But there’s an apartment complex right across the street. We could get it setup with solar panels and a garden. We could help people. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. To help people.”

Holtz grips her knee and grins. “I think you can make whatever you want, and it’ll work,” she says.


	12. Chapter 12

Erin does truly want to enact her plan, but she feels trepidation buzzing through her as they approach the front entrance to the apartment building. Holtz’s new prosthetic is bouncing along fine and dandy, thanks in part to the springs she added to help with suspension, but her spry footsteps are also due to her enthusiasm. While Erin hesitates in the face of uncertainty, she flounces in with flourish. She immediately pulls out a lock pick, which she inserts carefully and jiggles about.

“Y’know, I never thought this would actually be a useful skill.” Holtz’s tongue pops out the side of her mouth for a moment as she works. “Learned because I thought I could impress a cute girl some day, not because I thought I’d actually break in some place.”

A bit shy with their more overt flirtations, Erin whispers, “You impressed me.”

Holtz winks. “Then mission accomplished on two fronts.”

She stands, and the door pops open. Erin steps inside and waits for Holtz to join her. They have the afternoon to check the building out and see if it’s suitable for their plans. This means a sweep of the building, from top to bottom and through every apartment. As long as there are no current occupants and no major damage, she and Holtz can begin the process of installing solar energy equipment on the roof.

They have two weeks to get things nice and hospitable over here, and then Eileen and Hazel will come back, expecting a new, safe home. Erin wants so badly to see that little girl in an environment where she can grow and learn, rather than cower and hide. If this building doesn’t work out, she’s determined to find one that will.

“All set.” Holtz moves past her and counts the number of mailboxes in the lobby. Per her assessment, there are twenty units in the four story building. The first floor hosts the laundry room, the maintenance room, the property manager’s home, and a unit currently listed as HOPKINNS.

They go to the Hopkinns residence first, and Holtz tries the first door. It doesn’t open, so she knocks and calls out a greeting. There’s no response. She jams her lock pick in, does her magic, and opens the door with a small bow.

Erin rolls her eyes and enters the spacious first floor apartment. There’s an odor in the air that makes her wrinkle her nose--she assumes there’s spoiled food in the fridge or on the counter in the kitchen. Ignoring the scent, she scans the walls. Whoever Hopkinns is, they have rather expensive taste. Eyeing a lavish oil painting, Erin reminds herself that in the past, elegance like this wouldn’t have felt nearly as wasteful and pointless as now. She wonders if all art would feel this way to her, or simply the outrageously priced kind. Holtz pokes her finger in the paint and laughs.

“I heard it takes literally forever for oil paintings to dry. I always wanted to touch one in a museum, but I didn’t want to go to jail that badly.”

“I’m glad you’re living your dreams.”

“Yeah, this definitely could be a dream of mine. You’re here, although you’re wearing a lot more than usual. See, you--”

“Don’t need to hear this right now.” Erin halts in the living room and covers her nose. The stink increases tenfold, and she repels several steps. Behind her, Holtz retches. She forces herself forward and discovers a decaying body covered by a blanket on the couch.

“Shit,” Holtz gasps out. She retches again and covers her mouth to keep from actually puking. After a moment, she stumbles around and tries doors until she finds the bathroom.

Erin follows after and holds her hair back while she loses the contents of her stomach. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea…”

Holtz wipes her mouth with a square of toilet paper and shrugs. She drags an arm over her forehead to dispel some sweat and leans back from the toilet. “This isn’t pleasant, but we need to do it. Even if the building doesn’t work for us, we can help put these people to rest.”

This is a new angle on ghost busting, Erin thinks, but she supposes it’s still within their purview. Dealing with the dead is easier when there’s no body involved, however. She nods and helps Holtz back up. Together, they return to the living room and stare at their current problem.

“Do we bury him?”

“I don’t know.”

“If there are more people like him, do we bury them, too?” Erin hesitates. “I don’t think we have the time or the woman power for something like that.”

Holtz sighs. “Burning the bodies would be most efficient, but it feels somehow disrespectful.”

“We can’t even say anything over their bodies because we don’t know who they were.” Erin stares a moment longer and then turns. She grips Holtz’s arm lightly. “Let’s keep going through the building. We’ll leave him here for now, and we’ll discuss this with everyone later. This feels too big to just make a decision on the fly.”

“Yeah, okay.”

The next apartment, the manager’s home, is thankfully empty of bodies, either living or dead. There is, however, a very scraggly cat sitting on the dining room table. Holtz finds a bag of cat food hidden in the pantry and pours some into a bowl covered in paw prints. The cat, whose tag deems it Wriggles, sets about eating like a vacuum cleaner. Holtz pets Wriggles, and Wriggles lifts his butt for maximum scritches.

“I know we can’t bring him home, but this is now my cat,” Holtz announces.

“Maybe it would be nice for each of us to take one of the apartments over here, if it works out. We’ve been living in close quarters for awhile. It would be nice if Matthew could have his own space, too. Make things seem a little more normal for him.”

“Would you…”

“What?”

Holtz pffts and flaps her hand. “Nothing.”

Although this is hardly convincing, Erin moves on. She takes the stairs to the second floor and waits for Holtz to get the first apartment’s door open. They move space to space, and two hours later, they can safely say the building is right for their needs. On the roof, Holtz finally brings the topic up again.

“So…”

“Hm?” Erin peers across the street at the firehouse. She wonders what the others are up to, but her attention quickly flits back to Holtz.

“I was thinking that maybe we could, y’know, cohabitate?”

“What?”

“I mean, because of my leg,” Holtz lies. “In case I need help.”

“You won’t need help.”

“No, I won’t.”

Erin considers the offer--and what it means. This is faster than her usual timeline in a relationship; she’d been with Phil for three years and never once wanted to live with him, not that he’d asked. Yet, the idea of sharing space with Holtz isn’t unappealing.

“I think that might be nice.”

“Yeah?” Holtz’s expression brightens.

“Yes. But you are not allowed to bring explosives inside, and you’re in charge of Wriggles.”

“Seriously? What if I promise that it’ll only be small-poof explosives?” Holtz clasps her hands and widens her eyes. She bats her eyelashes.

Erin is not swayed in the slightest. “No.”

“Alright. Fine, fine.” A beat passes. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Holtz approaches and takes her hands. “I’m not so good at this, but I… I don’t always feel enough. So, thanks for being up for it.”

“You’re enough.” Erin squeezes their joint hands. “Any hesitation I had was my own stuff. I’ve lived alone for a long, long time, and I was worried I’d be a less than ideal roommate. I’m a little picky. About everything.”

“I expected nothing less.”

“We should get back.”

“Nah. I think we can take another few minutes up here. It’s sorta nice to be outside and alone.”

Erin has to admit that Holtz is right. The weather is still pleasant, and she rarely has time with Holtz that doesn’t include everyone else as well. She leans against Holtz’s shoulder and sucks in a deep breath of fresh air. Holtz wraps her up in a warm hug, and they enjoy the quiet. Erin knows with certainty that this peace will not be permanent, and sooner rather than later, they’ll be swept up in action once more.

Holtz kisses her cheek a few minutes later and grins. “Okay. I think I’m good now.”

“Me, too,” Erin says, and it feels like the truth.


	13. Chapter 13

The garden on the roof flourishes, and Erin settles among the fresh sprouts and digs her fingers into the dirt. At this rate, they’ll have fresh produce within a few months, and then she can begin the arduous process of canning everything. Well, mostly everything. They want a taste of their fresh produce, despite knowing that they’ll need as much as possible to survive winter. Holtz talks about building a greenhouse, but Erin anticipates that will be a project for the following year.

Her anxiety doesn’t flare at the thought that this nightmare is never ending. She isn’t sure if this is personal growth or a seeping numbness, infecting her ability to care. In any event, she’s glad for the small form of relief. She has myriad other reliefs as well--from being safe and secure to having her friends with her. Of course, she still worries endlessly about her parents, but that, too, has eased as the months have past. This could also be part of the grieving process, but she’s loathe to label her emotions that way. Doing so would mean she’s accepted never seeing them again, and she’s got a stubborn part of her heart that refuses to give up hope.

Patty sits beside her and examines the plants as well. She’s made a trip or two to the public library and gathered as many gardening books as she can. Although she’s never grown anything but an attitude, she’s become an excellent gardener. The only area of the garden she refuses to tend is the small corner, where Holtz’s marijuana buds. In her words, the shit smells rank, and she’s got more important vegetation to care about. Erin doesn’t mind. She finds preening the tiny plant relaxing, especially because she knows it’ll eventually help Holtz deal with the chronic pain.

“They’re still arguing,” Patty says.

Erin shrugs. “I figured.”

“Holtz isn’t saying much, but she’s still there as referee.”

“There’s no right answer, is there?”

Patty shakes her head. “No. Not unless we could get our hands on some construction equipment. Something with a big shovel on the front could dig all the graves we could possibly want.”

“Don’t mention that to Holtz. She’ll want to raid construction sites.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“We’ll go in for a digger, but she’ll see a cement mixer and have some harebrained idea about how to use that, too. Do you really want a full complement of heavy machinery in our back lot?”

Patty laughs, shaking her head. “No. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

0-0-0

Holtz sits at her desk, fiddling with a screwdriver. Her fake leg is propped up in front of her, and she considers what modifications she’d like to make. The prosthetic is functional, of course, but she wants something that’s exceptional. Although she’s nowhere near being able to build a proton gun in, she thinks she can manage a storage container of some sort. Then, she’ll be able to transport a few proton grenades, maybe a sandwich or two.

She idly scratches at her stump.

“She’s impossible.” Jenn storms past.

Holtz stops scratching and spins her chair to watch the mobile woman stalking around the lab space, her hands a flurry around her face as she continues ranting about Abby’s unwillingness to see reason.

“So, you and Abby--you’re in love right about now, huh?”

Jenn pauses to stare at her. “What?”

“There’s a very thin line between love and hate.” Holtz winks. “No, but I was just trying to get you to slow your roll. I take it Abby’s still against burning the bodies?”

“Yes. But it’s ridiculous. Bodies are just the physical remains. As long as we’re respectful in this, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Keep in mind what we do here.”

Still staring, Jenn approaches and sits on the edge of Holtz’s desk. “You used to capture non-corporeal entities.”

“Which is evidence that supports an existence post-mortem, at least for some people.”

“Ghosts don’t care about their bodies.”

“We don’t actually know one way or the other,” Holtz counters. “Maybe they do. Maybe we’ll just piss them off if we burn them all up.”

“What else are we supposed to do?”

“Oh, I think we should burn them, too.” She shrugs.

“Then why try to change my mind?”

“I wasn’t. I just thought it’d be good for our synergy here if there was some mutual understanding going on.”

Jenn is quiet, leaving Holtz to go back to work on her leg. After ten minutes, Jenn stands and nods. “I wonder if she’d be happier if we created a memorial to the people we put to rest. Something like a wall of pictures and names that would honor the people who’ve died as best we can.”

“She might go for that.”

“Thanks, Holtz.”

As Jenn departs, Holtz grins at her leg and feels extraordinarily useful.

0-0-0

Erin slips onto the mattress beside Holtz and pulls the slighter woman against her. Holtz mutters something about Erin already having a teddy bear but doesn’t attempt to flee. Instead, she grips Erin’s wrist and keeps Erin flush at her back. Erin’s stuffed teddy bear has long since been donated to Matthew, and Erin finds she prefers this warm living, breathing model much more alluring.

She doesn’t feel quite so alone when she sleeps next to Holtz, and she is a bit more optimistic about the future. From the empty apartments across the street, they’d rescued a few mattresses for the others to sleep on, and this is the first night when everyone can sleep comfortably at the same time.

This feels like the first real night since the tragedy struck, and rest comes easily.

0-0-0

“Good morning, sunshine,” Holtz whispers, her lips brushing the shell of Erin’s ear.

Erin yawns and blinks slowly. “Is it morning already?”

“Yup.” Holtz stresses every syllable and grins. “But I think we can sleep a little later if you want.”

This is a luxury that Erin hasn’t indulged in for many years. She stretches and curls her toes, deciding that a bit of laziness is okay. Rather than fall back asleep, however, she uses these quiet moments to chat.

“Are you doing okay?”

Holtz shrugs. “I’m managing.”

“Mostly, I think I am, too. Not always.”

“You’re not the one who puked over seeing a dead body.”

“I’m afraid.” Erin hesitates and then elaborates. “That I’m shutting down. I’m not dealing with things. I wish I wanted to puke. All I felt in that room was apathy, and that’s… that’s not right, is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m like a yo-yo. First, I was overreacting to literally everything, and now, I can’t force myself to care about anything.”

“You care about me, don’t you.”

“Of course.”

“And Abby?”

“Yeah.”

“Patty?”

“Yes. And before you keep going, yes, I care about the people in this building, all of them.”

“Then you’re not completely shutting down. Er, you have to survive and keep going. If you need to block a lot out to do that, I can’t blame you.”

Erin nestles against her and closes her eyes again. “I shouldn’t complain.”

It goes unsaid that she feels selfish because Holtz has lost much more than she has. Holtz rubs her back and says, “You should, if it helps.”

“I don’t even know if it does.”

“Well, it’s not hurting, so have at it. Spill your woes unto me.” After a beat, Holtz adds, “It sorta makes me feel important. Like I’m helping. That’s what I want. I want to help.”

“You help so much, Holtz. With everything.”

Holtz kisses her forehead. “That’s nice of you to say, and I hear you.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it? To know it, even after hearing it?”

“Yeah.”

Erin sighs and nods. “I guess I’ll just have to keep telling you, then.”


	14. Chapter 14

The heat from Holtz’s body keeps her more comfortably warm than the blanket they are both burrowed beneath. Holtz snoozes onward, and she takes a moment to scan the sleek lines of Holtz’s face. She trails her fingers across the blonde’s cheek; in the muted light and still quiet, she can pretend that nothing else exists. Holtz peeks an eye open and smiles at her.

“I’m really starting to like waking up like this,” Holtz murmurs, her voice still raspy with sleep.

“Me, too.” Erin flushes. “You’re like a space heater, did you know?”

“Mm. Old girlfriend of mine used to insist I slept on the couch in the summer.” Holtz throws the covers back and stretches. The action drags her sleep shirt up her abdomen and bares the pasty skin of her stomach. She tugs her shirt back into place and reaches for her prosthetic, which lies a few feet away. Erin helps her settle the leg into place, and she stands--a bit wobbly at first but steadier by the moment.

“I like it.” 

Erin watches Holtz from the corner of her eye, ready to leap to the rescue should the need arise. When she perceives no danger, she gets up as well and follows Holtz to the kitchen. It’s still early enough that the rest of the firehouse is quiet, so they grab a granola bar apiece and an energy drink to split before heading up to the roof to enjoy the stillness. As soon as they’re outside, Holtz lifts her arms and spins.

Hiding a smile behind one hand, Erin shifts to the edge of the roof in order to lean out and get a good look at their surroundings. Every morning prior, the streets have been empty, save for a stray cat or a suddenly homeless dog. She expects nothing different as she peers down the street and nearly chokes on saliva when she spots a group of ten figures, dressed in dark colors and headed their way.

She ducks back and sucks in a deep breath. Unsure if she was seeing things, she forces herself back and takes a second look. The people are still there, and her heart beat thuds powerfully against her rib cage.

“Holtz.”

“Mmyes?”

“There’s people out there.”

Holtz bounds over and skids to a halt, with Erin’s hand on her back to keep her steady. “Oh, shit. There totally are.”

“Do you think they need help?”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” Holtz eyeballs them. “Gotta be honest, my gut says they’re looking for trouble. Dressed like that? Moving in a pack? Maybe we ought to wake everyone up and make sure the building is secure.”

They retreat inside and rouse the adults, except for Kevin, who they both decide would likely complicate matters more than necessary. By the time the outside group is by their front door, all five women have checked the blockades on the windows and armed themselves summarily with bludgeoning tools. Better safe than sorry, as Jenn responds to Patty’s concerns about instigating violence. They don’t know what these people want, so they need to be careful.

The door jiggles abruptly and then slams on its hinges. Erin falls back a step and raises her wrench defensively. Abby’s knuckles are visibly white as her grip on a hunk of lumber tenses. She leans toward the door, prepared to call out, but Patty shakes her head. Silence reigns, and they can hear the mumbled chatter outside.

“...n. Maybe they’re gone.”

“Locked up tight, though...”

“Can’t--Worthless.”

“Fuck it.”

After a few minutes, the sounds outside peter out. They wait an additional ten minutes before anyone dares make a sound--Jenn sighs audibly and rubs her forehead. She drops to the ground and braces her temples with her fingers. Patty follows her down, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“You okay?”

Jenn’s fingers tremble, but she nods. “Fine. Just…”

“Just the last time a group of people came at your building, y’all ended up in a closet.”

“Right.”

Patty hugs her closer and massages her back slowly. “Take some deep breaths.”

Erin considers the scene and realizes that she’s not the only one dealing with internal struggles. She supposes she ought to have known, but she’s not going to waste time beating herself up. She squats next to Jenn, too, and sets a hand on her shoulder. “I have some valium upstairs, if you need one.”

“I… I think I just need a few minutes.” Jenn covers her hand and squeezes. “But thank you.”

“Of course.” She withdraws, straight into Holtz’s waiting arms. Startled, she flinches away but then relaxes.

Holtz whispers, “You needing them doesn’t make you weak.”

Her cheeks flush, and she wonders how Holtz is so in-tune with the happenings in her mind. She manages a smile. “I know.”

“I’ll let this go, then. But I’m here if you need the cheerleading, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”

Wincing, Holtz draws back and scratches at the edge of her prosthetic. “I think the adrenaline of our mysterious visitors is wearing off. Time for a pill, I think.”

“Holler if you need help with the child-proof lid,” Abby teases.

Holtz sticks her tongue out and limps upstairs. Erin considers chasing after, but she wants to be present for the conversation that is inevitably coming. She nibbles on a cuticle and stares at the door until Abby clears her throat.

“So… people trying to break in… That’s new, huh?”

“Apparently.” Erin wrinkles her nose. “At least they didn’t succeed?”

“How long until they come back with bigger, badder things to try?” Jenn is on her feet again to test the barriers in the front windows.

“Maybe the won’t think anything good is inside?” Erin hopes but realistically knows they will be back. Even if nobody knows they have food, most people in the area will assume they have powerful weapons. Sure, they’re for fighting ghosts, but they look strong and deadly.

“Maybe.” Although there’s more to talk through, Patty retreats to the second floor to check on Matthew. When she returns ten minutes later, no progress has been made--something must be done, but what that something should be is uncertain.

“Look,” Patty interrupts Erin and Abby heckling one another. “It seems to me that we need some sort of decision-making hierarchy. I’m not talking like some sort of dictatorship, but it’s clear we need to come to a consensus somehow.”

“I’m not giving up the apartment project.” Erin folds her arms over her chest. “I don’t care how many people are out there with the potential to harm us, we can’t just lock ourselves in here forever. We have a duty to help people.”

“I’m not saying that we don’t! Erin, have you never been on a plane before? You have to secure your own air mask before helping others. You won’t be any good to anyone else if you’re dead.”

“I’m not--”

“Kids.” Patty claps her hands loudly to get their attention. “I’m sick of fighting each other. I’m done. No more.”

“Then what do you propose?”

“We have a weekly leader. We do what she says. I’m not saying no conversation about things, but one person has final call.”

Jenn nods. “And by rotating, we avoid a situation where one person has too much power.”

“I vote Jenn first,” Erin says quickly. “She’s got the most experience with politics and making decisions.”

“I was an aide…”

“Still better than the rest of us.”

“Hey, now.” Patty cocks her head and socks her hands together. “Patty was captain of the cheerleading squad in high school.”

“That’s just as valid,” Jenn agrees. “I vote Patty.”

Tying at two-to-two, they seek out Holtz, who tinkers away at her desk. Her leg needs modifications, and Erin spots redness on Holtz’s stump; they need to find someway to make wearing the appendage easier, especially if they want Holtz to be as mobile as usual. Holtz glances between the two candidates, shrugs, and says, “Gotta say Patty. No offense, Jenn, but bad bitches gotta stick together.”

Jenn nods. “That’s fine by me.”

“Patty first, then, and Jenn second.” Abby glances between Holtz and Erin. “Any preference for order?”

Holtz shakes her head. “Nah. You two first. I’ll go last. No problem.”

Likewise, Erin shrugs and demurs that she doesn’t mind being second to last. There is a tacit understanding that Kevin will not be included in this. As the group disperses, Erin sits next to Holtz and props her cheek on her palm.

“Is your leg okay?”

Holtz deliberates. She digs her nails into her skin and dips her head down. “I want to lie and tell you that everything is dandy, but honestly? Sometimes it itches--like not the leg that’s still there, but the part that’s not. It’s a little maddening.”

“I read about that.”

“Yeah. Me, too. But it’s a little different actually experiencing it. I can’t even put it into words.”

Erin settles a hand on her lower back. “I… I don’t want to say I’m sorry because that’s just not enough. It’s--What happened to you is so much bigger than me lamely saying that.”

Holtz nuzzles her neck and shrugs. “I appreciate the sentiment. I appreciate the support a little more, though. Thanks, Er.”


	15. Chapter 15

Really enjoying her position as that week’s leader, Patty makes a few important calls. The bodies from the apartment building will be burned in the small park one block over. It’s not a lot of space, and it was likely intended for city-dwelling dogs to do their business in, but it will suffice as a designated cemetery space. They will have a few minutes of silence when they are safely back inside, and Abby is in charge of creating a board of remembrances.  
  
Additionally, she assigns Holtz to an unusual and difficult task: creating a bridge from one building to the other. Holtz grins and announces that the street is lava, signalling her readiness to take on the project. Until then, everyone else is to fortify defenses and put together a plan should the hooded figures return. Once the bridge is safely constructed, Erin is allowed to pursue her mission once more. Erin reluctantly admits that this is a more feasible strategy than wanting to simply barge across the street, as the apartment buildings have no defenses to speak of.  
  
Erin spends a few days in the lab, alternating between helping solve a few mathematical monstrosities for Holtzmann and deciding which pieces of equipment can be reformatted for defensive purposes. She places her hand on one of the proton pistols and hesitates. Sacrificing this is just another step that signals that life as she knew it is over, totally and completely. She waits to feel something. No emotion comes, until anger at her lack of emotions boils in her stomach.  
  
Holtzmann’s hands settle on her hips and turn her about. Wasting no time, she says, “Come onto the roof with me. I have to examine what we’re working with and get a more accurate estimation of bridge length.”  
  
“Fine.” She puffs out the word through gritted teeth and digs her fingernails into her palms. Intentionally oblivious to the stress in Erin’s trembling body, Holtz bounds along. Erin watches the prosthetic and feels much of her fury dissipating. She’s so glad that Holtz is truly at ease with her replacement leg, despite the pain and irritation that sometimes strike. Wishing she could be more like her girlfriend, Erin sighs and steps into the sunlight.  
  
“So, want to tell me what’s up?”  
  
Erin shrugs. “It’s sorta better now.”  
  
“You’re the one who always nags me about my feelings.”  
  
“Nags? Is that really what I do?” Erin deflates and retreats within herself. As a child, she’d listened to numerous fights as her father complained about her mother’s nagging. She never wanted to be either of her parents, in spite of her love for them. That she’s apparently nagging Holtz crushes the rest of her ire into sadness.  
  
Holtz grabs her wrists and drags her back to the moment. “You don’t nag, I promise.”  
  
Erin suddenly understands why Holtz reacted negatively to her revealing her feelings; she, too, repels from what is obviously a platitude meant to placate her into compliance. She shifts away and heads to kneel by the garden. Holtz follows but doesn’t sit. Sitting with her prosthetic is fine when there’s a chair; the ground still proves to be a worthy adversary when it comes to her ability to stand back up.  
  
“You don’t nag. I promise.”  
  
“I believe you,” Erin replies, without a hint of honesty. She hides her eyes behind her hands, although no tears come. She feels empty once more.  
  
“I need you to stand up.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Either stand up, or I’m coming down.”  
  
Erin staggers to her feet and is immediately swept into a hug. Pressed to Holtz’s chest, she sniffles. Relief fills her as the first few tears trickle down her cheeks. The weight pressing down on her eases, and she loses herself in the embrace.  
  
“I wish I could feel normal again.”  
  
“You were never normal.” Holtz’s teasing tone is gentle, wary.  
  
“At least I had a full range of emotions. Not just sad and angry, and sometimes empty.”  
  
Holtz rubs her back. “I’m there with you, babe. You think I’m not pissed off, like all the time? Or hopelessly sad when I’m overwhelmed?”  
  
“I know that. I do. But… you manage to be chipper.”  
  
“Ever since I was a kid, I learned that I had to make people think I was happy.”  
  
Erin draws back, her own woes pushed aside for Holtz’s. “Why?”  
  
“Whenever I told my parents that I was upset about something, they told me everything I should be grateful for. I had a home, a comfortable bed, enough food--I had no reason to be anything but happy.” Holtz is quiet for a moment. She tightens her grip on Erin as she concludes, “So, I guess I got the point that there’s no point in complaining, you know? There’s no point in showing people how messed up I feel.”  
  
“You’ve shown me that side of you before.”  
  
“I… I want to be vulnerable with you. But it’s hard. Every time I’ve shared with you, I’ve hated myself a little bit for burdening you. I know--” Holtz reaches up to touch her chest. “--I know that you love me and want to hear it. But my brain is still wired to think that I’ve done something wrong by expressing my bad feelings.”  
  
“Do you feel bad right now?”  
  
“I’m uncomfortable, yeah.”  
  
“So, why do it?”  
  
“I don’t want you to feel alone, Erin. I’ll be as uncomfortable as it takes as long as you know I’m right here with you.”  
  
Erin inches closer and buries her face in Holtz’s shoulder. “I saw our equipment in there, and I was just thinking about how final it feels to take it all apart. It really felt like the end.”  
  
“If it’s the end, I’m amazed by how long the epilogue is.”  
  
A laugh spurts out, and Erin smiles. “Maybe it’s not the epilogue. Maybe it’s just another chapter.”  
  
“Heck yeah!” Holtz slaps her butt and turns her attention to the marijuana plant. “Can I just say that I would love to see you high?”  
  
“I don’t think I’d like the experience.”  
  
“I will never, ever pressure you to try it, but I will say that it’s relaxing. For me, it takes the edge off, both the physical pain, as well as the emotional stress.”  
  
“I’ll think about it.” Erin reaches down to fondly stroke the leaves of a growing pepper plant. “Sometimes, the plants make me think that we’re going to make it through this. They’re thriving up here, and maybe we could, too. But it scares me. If I let myself hope, then I could end up devastated.”  
  
“You let yourself love me, right? There ain’t no gain without no pain, you get me?”  
  
Erin watches Holtz slip into an over-dramatic pose that highlighted her biceps and feels lighter again. “You really missed your calling as a bodybuilder.”  
  
“I don’t even lift, bro. Who has time to, when there are so many things to build.”  
  
“And fires to set.”  
  
“And machinery to repurpose.” Erin’s grin fades, but Holtz doesn’t let her mood drop too far. “Hey, I’m super good at my job, and I can rebuild things if we need to. Change doesn’t mean disaster. Change is adaptation and survival.”  
  
They go inside, and Erin returns to work.  
  


0-0-0  


  
On their next outing, Erin makes sure they break into a pharmacy afresh. Since there is no major emergency to call them home, she takes her time sorting through her options. She grabs a varieties of antidepressants and antipsychotics, hoping that Jenn can help her sort through transitioning from one to the other once her supply dwindles. She finds her brand of migraine medication, while Abby grabs handfuls of pain medication.  
  
“I never want to be in that position again,” she explains when Erin shoots her a skeptical look. “I want us to have a full stock of whatever we need, in case someone gets hurt.”  
  
“Do you know the name of any antibiotics? Something to fight infections?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Not for the first time, Erin wishes the Internet were still accessible. “Well, we can’t take everything home, and some of it is probably for, like, adult incontinence.”  
  
“We’ll make a couple trips. Next time Patty hits the library, we’ll have her grab some research materials. We can’t take it all right now, but it can’t hurt to build an infirmary that’s got everything we could possibly need.”  
  
Erin nods. She decides they should also grab a slew of vitamins and supplements, in case their diet becomes restricted. “Want to also grab some of the spare clothing? Finding gauze might not be easy, but if we have disposable cloth, we can probably make something.”  
  
“Now you’re thinking.” Abby beams. “And if there are any hoodies by the front, grab some. You've worn your MIT one ragged already, and once fall hits, we’re going to want some additional warmth. It’s the off season right now, so everything should be on sale.” 


	16. Chapter 16

Holtz shoves scattered papers across the table, excitedly pointing to one or the other while trying to form full words. Patty picks one up, but apparently selects the wrong one as Holtz snatches and crumples it up, before tossing the resulting ball over her shoulder. Abby props her cheek against her palm and waits patiently, as she’s dealt with this side of Holtz numerous times before, while Erin stares with a mixture of admiration and confusion.

“See?”

Abby snorts. “Holtz, I think you’ve blinded us. None of us are seeing much of anything right now.”

“Ugh.” Shuffling through the papers once more, Holtz finds what is presumably page one. She holds it aloft. “Look, then.”

Erin peers at the drawing, which depicts something akin to a rope bridge from building to building. A shiver runs down her spine at the thought of having to walk across something like that with wind buffeting her to and fro. She’s not sure she wants to give this particular idea the go-ahead.

“Looks a little unstable,” Patty finally says. “And what’s to say that the rope won’t weather or snap?”

“I never said it’d be a rope bridge.” Holtz grins, the expression a bit manic. “I’ve been tinkering with some new ideas for my leg, and--and I think I’ve got the best thing since sliced bread. Wait. Patty, when were you born again? The best thing since Patty.”

Patty rolls her eyes. “Flattery ain’t gonna get you permission.”

“The statement stands,” she insists with a wink, “but seriously. This thing is gonna be big.”

“Get on with it. What is your thing? And please-- _please_ \--do not reference any primary sexual characteristics.”

Staring at Abby as if the thought had never, not even once, crossed her mind, Holtz huffs and folds her arms over her chest. When she speaks, however, her tone is eager rather than offended. “It’s a metal I’ve been developing. It’s pretty dang tight.”

“You’ve been smelting metal?” Erin’s jaw drops. “In here? With all the dangerous things around?”

“Well, where else would I be doing it?”

“Holtz, that’s dangerous--”

“So is going outside right now.” She shrugs. “Oops?”

“Get back to your point,” Patty urges.

“It’s not perfected, yet, but from the way it’s been behaving in controlled settings, it starts as this loose, limp material. Soft, y’know? Like gold, but not as malleable. But when you activate a specific frequency, it stiffens.”

“Do not mention--”

“Dick jokes, I know. Now, I obviously haven’t weight tested anything, but it’s promising.”

Abby runs her fingers over the design and nods. “I think you should keep going on this track. Your other designs seem impossible.”

“You don’t want a draw bridge?” Holtz leans closer, grinning. “Or a zip line?”

“No, and I definitely don’t want a glass-bottom bridge so I can see how far I’ll fall if it so much as cracks.”

“Well, nothing else is going on. Go for it, Holtzy.” Patty waves her hand, and Holtz skips upstairs to her lab.

Erin lingers, seeking to reestablish closeness with her friends. While she still isn’t too sure about her mental and emotional stability, she recognizes that she needs support if she wants to do more than merely survive.

She clears her throat before Patty can walk away, and the taller woman pauses. “Hey, Patty.”

“What’s up?”

“I was just wondering… how you were doing?” She clears her throat and offers a smile. “I miss chatting, you know? Like before--when nothing was going wrong.”

“Well, things been going wrong for forever, but I get what you mean. I guess I’m alright. If I didn’t have Matthew…” Patty shrugs. “It’s good to have something to focus on.”

“It’s good to have a purpose.”

“Yeah. I also started taking notes.”

Erin furrows her brow. “About what?”

“Everything happened. I know we’re pretty limited right now in what we know, but something’s better than nothing. We gotta have a record. Whether we like it or not, this is history happening.”

“Smart.” Erin waits for the usual dread to seep in; she can’t hear about how permanent the situation is without feeling awful. At the moment, however, she stays calm and manages a smile. “If you need any help, let me know. I have pretty neat handwriting.”

“I might take you up on that sometime. My chicken scratch ain’t always pretty.”

“What have you written down so far?”

As Patty tells her all the details, Erin relaxes and listens. Patty always has an interesting perspective, and the way the words come out of her mouth is almost like verbal painting. She helps Erin realize that although the world is far from what it was before, Erin can still create a new normal.

0-0-0

She settles against the mattress and lets out a slow, steady breath. Holtz is already fast asleep, hair poofing over her forehead and mouth agape. Erin brushes the hair aside, glad that Holtz is out hard. While she loves their conversations, she also appreciates the quiet, when they can simply be together. If that time is mostly when the blonde is asleep, then Erin takes what she can get.

Even asleep, there’s something chipper about Holtz--Erin first assumed it to be the slight upturn to Holtz’s slim lips, but there’s definitely something more. She stares now and ponders if it’s the laugh-lines, or how Holtz sleeps sprawled out in odd positions that ought to be terribly uncomfortable but are oddly endearing. She kisses Holtz’s forehead and snuggles down, dragging the other woman into her arms. Unconsciously, Holtz tucks into her side.

This is normal now, too, she marvels.

She closes her eyes and sleeps.

0-0-0

“They’re back,” Abby whispers in her ear, rousing her immediately. Holtz is already gone, but the room is dark. It either isn’t morning, or the universe isn’t done drastically changing their environment.

“They?”

“The people who want to get in.”

Erin sits up quickly and hides her hands in the blankets so Abby won’t see her trembling. “What are we going to do?”

“Holtz is downstairs, reinforcing our barricades. Jenn and Patty’ve got Matt up on the roof. Me and you gotta gather up anything we can use as a defensive weapon.” Abby leans back and waits a moment. “If you’re not up for it--”

“No, I’m okay.” She tosses the blanket back and stands. Part of her new normal, and she’s going to make it work. This is her home, and she’s going to keep it safe.

Abby slaps her ass as they split up to grab anything that looks dangerous. She selects one of the proton weapons that’s still functional, a few pipes, and a scrap of metal with a jagged edge, all of which is fairly similar to what Abby finds. Together, they take their haul downstairs and use office supplies to attach sharp items to pipes. Holtz joins in after she and Kevin manage to shift a large filing cabinet in front of the door.

There’s no way the people outside don’t hear what’s going on, and Erin wonders if they’ll just keep coming back if they can’t make it in this time. There’s no real way to deter them, what with no police around to enforce the law. Violence isn’t supposed to be the answer. She squeezes her eyes shut and resolves that no matter what happens, she won’t let that become normal. She has to draw that line. She has to.

“You okay, babe?”

“Stressed.”

Holtz grabs her hand and clutches it tightly. “You still with us?”

She sits straighter and is proud of how well she’s handling her fear. She’s not retreating into herself, getting angry, or going numb. “I am.”

“I never thought I’d see the day when Dr. Erin Gilbert, of the Tiny Bow Tie Collective, would be ready to knock some skulls.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” Her cheeks flush, especially when Holtz winks and kisses her. After catching her breath, she adds, “But I am ready to protect the people I love.”

“And we’re ready to protect you,” Abby announces, slapping a pipe against her palm. “I almost want them to get in.”

“Don’t say that. Please. Just because I’m ready doesn’t mean I’m enthusiastic. I don’t want to hurt people, even if I can acknowledge it might be necessary.”

Abby sobers and shrugs. “Alright. I take it back.”

They sit in relative silence and listen to the scraping and knocking of people outside struggling to get inside. Glass shatters, but the windows are boarded over several time, and not even a sliver of light makes it through. Finally, there’s several shouts of disgust and then nothing. Minutes later, Patty comes downstairs with Matthew ensconced in her arms and Jenn on her heels. They all huddle together in the middle of the room as the adrenaline of the last hour drains.

Erin sets her weapon down and stares at her hands. They no longer tremble.


	17. Chapter 17

Three days after the incursion, Erin sits at her old desk and scratches out a few equations. She hasn’t done much math in the last half a year, but the old familiarity is still there. Rather than dive back into the complex calculations that used to tantalize her, she starts with basic algebra. She’ll work her way back up, when she’s ready to focus on something for more than a few minutes. For now, she just wants a few moments of engagement here and there. Just because her new normal doesn’t involve reading academic journals and conducting research, she doesn’t have to give up on her hobbies.

Patty can record history. Holtzmann can tinker. Abby can manage supplies. Kevin can--well, Kevin can try out new hiding spots or work on his singing. He’s not horrible to listen to, but he could definitely use some work. It’s a pity, since his good looks might have earned him a front-man position in a band that relied on auto tune and a young, female audience.

She’d seen Jenn reading medical textbooks that Patty retrieved from the library two weeks ago, so she can just keep learning how to keep them all from dying. Erin thinks this is an excellent use of time, and she still hasn’t found a proper way to express the depth of her gratitude for Jenn’s brilliant work on Holtz’s leg. Without Jenn… Erin grimaces. They need Jenn, for all they don’t know her very well.

That is probably going to need to change, and Erin decides she might as well be the one to initiate friendship. She isn’t exactly a social butterfly, as her anxiety tends to plant her foot in her mouth, but it’s not like any of them can avoid one another. Plus, they don’t have many conversation partners. And she’d like to think that she has something to offer, since the other women in the building like her. That settles her nerves--that and solving the sheet of equations without a single mistake. Feeling silly, she uses a magnet to hang the paper on her whiteboard, like a proud parent with an only child’s test.

Holtz sees it later and thankfully doesn’t tease her. Instead, the blonde peers at the numbers and nods. “I think it deserves a sticker, at least. That’s a perfect grade, y’know?”

“I know.”

“Next time we make a supplies run, I’m getting you some of those smiling suns or make some Lisa Frank. Then again, that’s definitely what most people looted first.”

Erin smiles and places her hand on Holtz’s forearm. “Taking a break from your project?”

“Feeling restless, actually. Cooped up. Like I’m a rat in a cage, despite all my rage.”

“I bet you could get Matthew to play chess with you.”

“Nah, my brain needs some sleep.”

“So, you want something brainless to do?”

Holtz nods, stepping a bit closer. When Erin spots the sly smirk, she finally understands what Holtz is up to, and her cheeks warm. Her hand slides up Holtz’s arm and feels the musculature of Holtz’s bicep. If Holtz flexes just to show off, she doesn’t mind in the slightest--nor does she mind when Holtz nuzzles up to her nose-to-nose. She appreciates Holtz’s restraint, as the blonde waits for her to connect their lips before progressing any farther.

In the past, their kisses were brief and chaste.

Now, Holtz’s hands slip to her waist, and she feels fingertips digging into her hips. She cups her hands around Holtz’s jawline--and nearly peeps when she feels Holtz’s tongue on her lips. The noise pushes Holtz back a centimeter.

“Too much?”

Rather than answer, Erin draws her closer and kisses her again, this time with her lips parted. A chuckle rumbles somewhere deep in Holtz’s chest, and Erin lets her eyes flutter closed. She isn’t sure exactly how much time is expended interlocked with Holtz, but she doesn’t particularly care. The warmth of Holtz’s body and the tenderness of the moment is all at once not enough and forever. When Holtz’s hands slip lower to squeeze her ass, however, she jerks back.

“Too much.”

Holtz lifts her hands. “Sorry.”

“It’s not that… that I don’t want that. It’s that..”

“That’s a lot of that.”

“I know.” Erin runs a hand through her hair. “We just don’t have privacy here, Holtzmann.”

“I wasn’t going to--you know--”

“I know,” Erin cuts in. “But… I’m not really interested in public displays of affection.”

“We kiss in front of them all the time.”

“Yes, for a moment.”

Holtz leans in to peck her lips. “I gotcha, hot pants. Well, I better get back to work, then.”

“Why?”

“The sooner we have a bridge, the sooner I can get you in a private room and kiss you some more.”

Erin wonders if it’s possible for the blood vessels in her face to explode; she ducks her head when Holtz shoots her finger guns and strolls away. The attempt to calm herself is futile, and her heart hammers onward for the next few hours.

0-0-0

“Found you.”

She peers up at Matthew, who stands over her hiding spot with a gap-toothed grin. She slaps her knee to feign disappointment and gets to her feet. “So you did. Do you need help seeking?”

“No.”

While she would have liked to help him take down the ever-elusive Holtzmann--who somehow lodges herself in the strangest of places during Hide-and-Seek--she accepts his rejection with grace. At home base, she sits down with Kevin and tries to console him. She hopes he isn't being so loud as to wake Jenn, who's trying to sleep.

“Kevin, children are just naturally good at this game.”

“My team came in fifth,” he rebuts.

She feels horrible when her immediate thought is: out of how many teams? Asking would be rude, so she eases the conversation in a different direction. “I heard you singing the other day. It sounded very nice.”

“Oh, thanks. Mum always told me I had a voice like Angel.”

“An angel?”

“No, Angel was the dingo who used to howl in the yard back home.”

“Oh.” She nods uncertainly, suddenly and desperately regretting this conversation. “That’s… nice?”

“Hm, yeah.” He smiles, blissfully unaware. “D’you play anything? We could be a band, all of us.”

“I’m pretty sure the only one musically inclined is Abby, but we don’t have a drum set here for her to use.”

“She can just pound on the pots and pans.”

“Hm.”

“And Patty told me she blows a pretty good whistle--”

“Kevin. I don’t need to hear about her flirting with you.”

He stares at her, confused. “How is being able to play a Irish Penny Whistle--”

“Nevermind. Please, let’s just forget it.”

“Okay.” He settles back on his palms and bobs his head back and forth. When Patty settles next to them, he gives her a smile before returning to whatever music is playing in his head.

“The kid’s pretty good, I’ll give him that, but it don’t help that we’re running out of new places to hide in here. There’s gotta be another game we can play to keep him occupied.”

Erin laughs. “I gave up on really hiding a while ago. This is really a competition for him and Holtzmann. The rest of us are just distractions.”

“I still don’t get how she managed to squeeze under the sink like that.”

“Abby once said she got into an accident as a kid, and they had to remove a few of her ribs. I thought she was joking, but…”

“Man, if it ain’t that, it’s something.”

Feeling very comfortable, Erin laughs. She listens to the patter of Matthew’s feet for a moment before saying, “Abby’s giving him a run for his money right now, too.”

Before anyone can respond, a compact body sidles between them. Holtz lifts a finger to her lips and grins widely. This is either an ingenious hiding spot, or Holtz has lost her marbles, Erin decides. When Matthew walks past them, still intent on his search, she realizes it’s the former, as he barely even glances at home base. Of course Holtz would think of hiding in plain sight. It’s so stupid, it just has to work. Erin can’t contain her snort of laughter.

An idea strikes her, and she falls silent. Holtz glances at her, and it’s her turn to lift a finger--not to her mouth, but into the air to ask for a moment to think.

“What if we offer to help the people outside?”

The others stare blankly at her.

“You mean the ones tryin’ to bust in here in the middle of the night?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna listen.”

Holtz shrugs. “We’ve never tried saying anything, have we? As far as they know, we’re hoarding supplies in here just to be assholes. If we offer to help, maybe we can make good for all of us.”

“We don’t have enough--”

“No, but we know how to make solar panels work and how to start a garden.” Abby plops down, and Matthew hurries past in the opposite direction. “I say we don’t give out anything we can’t replace, but we offer to get them started.”

“Y’all just be sure to be ready when things go south.” Patty raises her hands. “I think this is nuts, but someone else is leader tomorrow. You just better not get Matthew hurt.”

“Heck no!” Holtz salutes. “The Matthew Protection Program is in full swing.”


	18. Chapter 18

The water in the shower is blissfully hot. Erin keeps her face turned up to the spray, eyes closed and body relaxed.This is the day. They’re opening the door, and she and Abby are heading across the street. She scrubs her scalp, rinses her hair, and finally twists the knob to stop the water. She’s reluctant to leave the building, but at the same time, she also doesn’t want to be trapped inside for the rest of her life. For all her brave talk of helping the outsiders, she doesn’t feel particularly capable of handling them herself--but if she doesn’t tackle her fear now, it could easily fester into a phobia. 

Wrapping herself in her towel, she steps into the steamy bathroom and curls her toes into the bathmat. Going out isn’t just to conquer her fear; no, she feels somehow guilty that she’s in a safe environment, with niceties like a hot shower, a functioning toilet, and enough food. If they can get everything set up in the other building, she’ll feel better. They’ll help others to be just as well off as they are.

She stares at her reflection in the mirror and frowns at her lank, soaked hair as it sticks to her neck and shoulders. She ought to see if someone would be willing to cut it for her, if only to make it more manageable. Gathering it all up, she secures it in a ponytail high on her head. She brushes her teeth, dabs a bit of concealer over a very annoying zit that appeared a few days before on the tip of her chin, and takes a final look over her appearance. It’s not as well-maintained these days, but she still takes pride in looking nice.

She pulls the door open and nearly walks into Jenn, who has her hand raised as if to knock. She apologizes for taking so long, but Jenn merely waves her hand flippantly.

“It’s fine. I was just going to check how much longer you’d be.”

“Well, I’m done. Clearly.” She laughs awkwardly and steps aside. “Are you--”

Jenn shuts the door before the question can pop out, and she tries not to be offended. She just wants to gain some insight into Jenn’s well-being, but she supposes not everybody wants to share. She tugs on the end of her ponytail as she walks to the closet holding her clothing. It was never meant to be anything other than a storage area for cleaning supplies, so Holtz had to install a few shelves to keep things off the floor. For this excursion, she selects a pair of jeans and a t-shirt of Holtz’s that had somehow slipped into her belongings. She definitely had not put it there, she lies to herself as she holds the shirt to her nose and inhales.

She meets up with Abby in the lobby by the front door. Kevin and Patty heave the tipped locker out of the way, granting them access to the outside world. Being as brave as she can, she holds her head high and struts out onto the street. Her confidence holds until she hears them shifting the cabinet back into place. Abby grabs her hand and laces their fingers together. The small connection boosts Erin’s spirits. Together, they cross the road unaccosted.

The door is closed but unlocked, and Abby insists they go slowly to make sure that nobody has gone in since their last adventure over there. Erin thinks this is very wise and follows behind while they creep from story to story until they’re on the roof. On the roof of the firehouse, Holtz bounces and waves, as if they won’t be able to see her otherwise. Abby snorts and waves back.

When Holtz pulls out something that looks suspiciously like a grappling hook, Erin takes a few steps back toward the stairs. Abby grabs her arm.

“She wouldn’t just shoot it right at us, would she?” Erin asks.

“No, of course not.” Despite her words, Abby looks worried.

Immediately after, something streams through the air in their general direction, and they both drop to the ground and cover their heads with their hands.

“YOU HAVE TO GRAB IT NOW!” Holtz hollers.

The item, which impacted the the chimney to their right, falls from the crumbling brick and slides away. Abby scrambles forward to grab it. She isn’t sure what to do with it now that she has it--but at least it didn’t fall off the roof. Holtz pantomimes jamming the thing into the roof, so Abby does so. Erin flinches when the device suddenly sprouts small robotic drills, which burrow down into the cement.

“Pretty secure, I guess,” Abby muses.

“I think she’s sending another one,” Erin replies, a second before it careens to the ground in front of her. She leaps on top of it and mirrors Abby’s actions. When she stands, she notes the two cords are a good three feet apart. “What else do we do?”

“No idea.” Abby squints across the way. “I can’t tell what she’s up to.”

Erin shouts her question, and Holtz waves them away. “I guess that means we can go back?”

“First I want to scout out the rooms over here. You and Holtzy have us at a disadvantage, knowing what everything looks like over here. If we’re moving, I want to choose my new pad.”

Lifting her hands, Erin says, “I wasn’t going to complain. I think that’s a great idea. Besides, I feel like we haven’t had a lot of time to just be together.”

“Post-apocalyptic hang outs are in short supply,” she jokes in response. “C’mon. We can’t stay here forever--at least not yet.”

They go slowly, floor by floor, and Abby lays her claim to a corner apartment on the second floor that has a nice view, decent furniture, and a large walk-in closet in the master bedroom. Although they don’t have much in terms of clothing yet, Abby remarks that they’ll eventually have to make a trip to a store because she’s sick and tired of wearing the same old outfits over and over again. That was fine when everything felt like a catastrophic crisis--but now that this is normal, she’d like a new wardrobe.

“You could get something cute,” Abby adds.

“Why?”

Abby stares. “For when you finally get it on with Holtzmann.”

“What? How do you know we haven’t?” Erin’s cheeks flush, and she averts her gaze. Aware that she has zero ability to bluff well, she fiddles with the hem of her shirt.

“Erin, we’re living in a three story firehouse with very little private space. You’re telling me that you--you--were willing to take your clothing off there? With everyone around?”

“I could have.”

“But you haven’t.”

“Well, no…”

Abby lifts her hands, palms twisting up, and shrugging. “That’s all I’m saying. You could find something, oh, I don’t know--sexy.”

“Are you saying my normal look isn’t sexy?”

“I’m sure Holtz just jizzes in her pants looking at you,” she deadpans.

“Abby…”

“Wouldn’t you like something new? Something that’ll really catch her eye?”

“I don’t dress to impress her.”

“Of course not. But it could be nice.” Abby checks the books on the bookshelf and rolls her eyes. “Who reads this many mysteries?”

“Do you… do you think she’d like it? If I got something…” She trails off, letting her embarrassment dictate her discomfort.

“Something sexy? Hell yeah, Erin.”

“That seems so frivolous… We should focus on getting clothing we actually need. Like warm stuff, for winter, and stuff for Matthew.”

“We can do all of that. It’s not like we’re on a budget.”

Erin sits in an armchair and stares at the coffee table. “This may surprise you, but I’ve never felt particularly sexy. Or desirable. Or whatever.”

“It’s not surprising, no.” At Erin’s huff, Abby shakes her head. “Not that I think you’re have no right to be, just I know how self-conscious you can be. But you ought to be confident. I mean, obviously you don’t need someone to want you to be confident, but it can’t hurt that Holtz thinks you hung the moon in the sky.”

“I just don’t understand why.”

“I’ll humor this just once, okay? There are like a million reasons why. You’re pretty, you’re smart, and you’re so empathetic. You want to do so much good, even when things look so bad. Maybe you don’t look at yourself and see something you like, but your heart is gorgeous, and you have to acknowledge that.”

“Well…”

“You’re a complete package, Gilbert. Shut up, and accept it.”

Erin is silent a moment longer and then stands. “Fine. We’ll go to Macy’s. You’ll have to help me choose, though.”

“I smell a montage sequence.”

“This isn’t a movie…” Erin follows Abby out the door and down the stairs. “And you have to promise not to laugh.”

“Scout’s honor.”

That’ll have to do, Erin decides. Despite her hesitation, she also feels a spark of excitement at the idea of seducing Holtzmann.


	19. Chapter 19

Dinner, for once, is attended by everyone. Erin looks around the table and notes that Matthew has his head bent over clasped hands. That he still believes in a higher power is admirable, and she meets his gaze as his head lifts. He looks uncertain, so she offers him a smile. Patty musses with his hair and determines he needs a haircut.

“Me, too,” Erin states, avoiding the looks this draws.

Holtz leans forward on her elbows. “Do tell.”

“It’s just in the way, is all.” She twists a lock between her fingers. “I’d like to go maybe chin-length.”

“Mm,” Holtz replies, while Abby slaps her shoulder.

“Whatever you want to do, Erin. Your hair, your choice.”

“Right, right. Just ignore how good she’ll look.”

Patty snorts. “I think you’d like Erin bald, if that’s what she wanted.”

“Well, yeah. ‘Cause she’s hot.”

Erin lifts her drink and sips long and slow. The water is cool, and she hopes it helps cool her embarrassment. Thankfully, Holtz seems to realize she’s pushing her luck and settles back in her chair. Patty offers to do the trimming the following day, and then the topic drifts away. Holtz touches her knee under the table and offers an apologetic smile. Erin shrugs and waves the concern away.

It’s validating that Holtz flirts so blatantly with her. Certainly, she can’t doubt that Holtz enjoys her company and finds her attractive--which should mean that getting some sort of enticing clothing ought to be no big deal.

When she and Abby make the nerve-wracking trip through downtown, she’s fought off most of the anxiety. She’s never dressed for someone else, not even Phil when he asked her to wear a ridiculous skirt suit that was hardly professional, so she just wants everything to go well.

They pull to the curb a good mile from their destination when abandoned cars make traffic too dense to pass. Erin holds a short knife in her pocket, her hand tight around the hilt. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but she does want to return home safe and sound. Abby locks the Ecto, for all the good it will do, and they walk down the sidewalk. Erin carefully avoids stepping on blood stains.

“Well, this is dismal, huh?”

“That’s putting it lightly.” Erin winces at the sight of what very well could be a dead person slumped beside a garbage bag in an alleyway. “I know it’s been over six months, but I wouldn’t have expected everything to just… break down.”

“I bet a lot of people left to find their family. The city isn’t empty because everyone is dead.”

“Right…”

“Look, over there.” Abby points to a figure two city blocks away. “See? Someone’s alive.”

Erin appraises the figure, but before she can decide to talk to them, the figure spots their approach and sprints away. Erin’s glad to know they’re not the only ones wary of strangers, but this does add a wrinkle to her apartment plan.

“If there are survivors, how can we get them to trust us? That person wanted nothing to do with us.”

“We can start with that woman and her child. They went back to their apartment, right? We can round them up, and anybody else we come who doesn’t flee. Maybe we start putting up flyers.”

“You do love a good flyer.”

“I think the bigger problem we’ll have is space. What happens if too many people show up for an apartment? How do we choose?”

Erin has no good answer. “Let’s hurry up. I want to get back before dark.”

“Yeah, good plan.”

0-0-0

The door to the Macy’s is already broken open, although much of the clothing is still inside. The jewelry cases are smashed and most everything has been rifled through. Erin assumes anything left behind has little to no value--but then again, everything is pretty valueless at the moment. When they need something, they simply take it. She’s still not wholly comfortable with this, but it’s easier now that she’s accepted her new normal.

“All of this is so last season,” Abby muses. She picks up an ugly chartreuse top, holds it to her chest, and sticks her tongue out. “I know it’s the end of the world, but I do have standards.”

Erin laughs. “But it’s so you.”

Before moving deeper into the store, she finds the store’s version of a cart: a black bag hung atop a set of wheels, like a very deep wheelbarrow. She pushes one to Abby and keeps one for herself.

“There’s probably a store around here with carts that we can use.”

“Let’s start with these. We do have to fit everything into the Ecto.”

“Well, we could see if anyone left their keys in their car, at least with the cars near the rear. See if we can’t get one running.”

“I think it would be more prudent to find a way to collect their gas. The Ecto’s done very well, considering, but there’s only so much Holtz can do to improve its miles per gallon, and the cars directly around the firehouse are almost empty.”

Abby pushes her cart along, pausing to examine a comfortable-looking tan poncho. She rubs her fingers along the material and then dumps the garment into her bag. “You’re probably right.”

Erin spots a few zippered hoodies that would go a long ways toward keeping her warm without wearing out her MIT garment. Leaving Abby for a moment, she heads across the aisle and picks through the selection. She finds one in light blue and stands in front of a mirror held aloft on a column. She hasn’t had much time to look at herself, especially not since her hair cut earlier that week. The short bob around her ears is fairly pleasing, and she won’t forget the look Holtz gave her anytime soon.

The blue of the hoodie brings out the blue in her eyes, and she decides to grab several. With that completed, she returns to Abby and urges her toward the children’s department. She’s eager to find Matthew some new clothing, as he’s grown over the last half a year. Taking her time, she picks out a set of jeans, shorts, shirts, underwear, and pajamas, along with a fresh bedding set, a very fluffy blanket, and a new pillow. Abby throws another set of sheets at her, which she barely catches.

“You’ll need to change your linens after Holtz sees what you’re getting today.”

Erin flushes hotly. “We haven’t gotten anything yet.”

“Yeah, but I won’t let you walk out of here with something ugly.”

“No laughing,” she reminds Abby.

Abby grins widely, assuming this means the best part of the shopping trip has arrived. “So, we doing it?”

Erin grimaces only slightly. “Lead the way to intimates.”

Abby does so with gusto.

0-0-0

In the changing room, Erin stares at the two options before her. One is a black lace bra and strappy stocking and garter set. The other is a barely-there negligee that ends just above mid-thigh. When she bends over, she notes how little is hidden and nearly drags her usual clothing back on.

“You doin’ okay in there?”

“Yes,” she responds quickly. She doesn’t need Abby bursting in to help make her decision.

“Okay… Everything fits?”

“It, um, seems a little small.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“I guess so.”

“Lemme see.”

Erin dons the panty set and reluctantly opens the door. She hunches forward, trying to hide her body as best she can, but Abby jabs her in the stomach to make her straighten. 

“Very nice, Gilbert. Very nice.”

“It’s just… It doesn’t feel like me.”

“You can’t let the outfit wear you. You gotta wear the outfit. Understand?”

“Not really.”

“Good. Let’s see the other one.”

Erin switches outfits and opens the door once more. Abby makes her spin in a circle, nodding and humming under her breath all the while. When she’s completed her three-sixty, Erin places her hands on her hips and tries to look like she’s not wholly uncomfortable.

“I think that’s the one.”

Erin glances down her body. “Really?”

“You said the other one wasn’t your style, and I get that. But this is cute. It’s sexy, yeah, but it’s not flashy.” Abby nods again. “This one you can work.”

“Let me get dressed again, and we can forget this ever happened. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Abby snorts. “Whatever you say.”

0-0-0

They stop in the housewares section so Abby can pick out some new cookware. If she’s getting her own apartment, she wants to be able to make her own meals--and since there’s no hefty price tag anymore, she wants some quality gear. Erin glances at her watch several times and notes how close they’re getting to sunset.

“We still have a mile to walk back.”

“We’ll be fine, I promise.”

Erin distracts herself with a cheesy apron with “KISS THE COOK” printed on the front with a garish set of lip prints next to the text. She discreetly adds it to her bag, knowing that Holtz will get a kick out of it. Abby finishes her selection and spreads her arms.

“Now we can go.”

They head back toward the entrance and find the sun has already disappeared.


	20. Chapter 20

“Abby!” Erin resists the urge to slap her hands all over Abby’s shoulders. “We’re stuck here.”

“Well, technically, we can leave,” Abby offers lamely.

Erin rolls her eyes almost painfully hard. “Yes, Abby. Technically, we can walk out into a dark and dangerous city without much for protection--without our friends knowing where we are--with--”

“I get it. You can stop.”

“Sorry.”

“No, I am.” Abby drags her hand under her chin, up her cheek, and back down. “Hey, at least they have beds in here. Some choice sheets and pillows, too. Plus these are new mattresses.”

“I’m not worried about us, not here.”

Together, they return deeper into the store, where Abby yoinks a blanket from a shelf and a pillow from a plastic sleeve. She hands these to Erin and grabs her own set. Silent, they settle on a queen-sized bed, cuddled close despite the faint heat of the late season.

“It’s going to be okay, y’know?” Abby’s breath is warm on her ear, and she feels Abby’s hand on her arm. Both keep her grounded.

“I know,” she says, knowing full well that she doesn’t actually know much of anything in that moment. “I’m just scared.”

“I know.”

“So much could go wrong.” Erin buries her face in Abby’s shoulder. “Has gone wrong. Will go wrong.”

Abby holds her closer and hums until she falls asleep.

0-0-0

Abby shakes her awake, and she blinks blearily as she tries to discern the time. There’s not much light, which means it’s early, but she feels somewhat rested, which means it’s not too early. She rubs her eyes and sits up. Abby waits patiently until she’s on her feet.

“Let’s get an early start.”

If this is to make up for the mistake the night before, Erin is willing to smile, nod, and get moving, even though she was just tired enough to want a little extra sleep. When she wakes up properly, she knows Abby made the right call. The sooner they head back, the sooner they can reassure their friends. She wonders how they’re doing--if Holtz is doing something stupid in an effort to get them back. Her throat tightens; she hopes Holtz doesn’t do anything dangerous. Well, more dangerous than normal.

“How did you sleep?”

“Fine,” she replies, eyes shifting away.

“So, not at all?” Erin deduces. She places her hand on the small of Abby’s back. “Then let’s get you home so you can.”

“I’m the reason we had to stay. Getting you home safely is my responsibility.”

“Getting us both home, you mean. I’m not leaving you behind.”

The gentle dappling of the rising sun slipping through trees and broken buildings and painting the sidewalk gives Erin plenty to stare at as they walk. She watches the shapes twist and disappear as time elapses. The walk back feels longer, although she recognizes that her nerves are altering her perception. Somehow, the carts are too loud, and the wheels rattle and bounce over every crack. There are no birds tweeting and no squirrels chittering--just the jittering of unstable wheels and the occasional kicked rock. 

Her stomach grumbles, and she clasps a hand over her belly. This wasn’t supposed to be a long trip, and they didn’t bring anything along to ease her hunger. They pass by a convenience store, and Erin wastes precious minutes finding a protein bar buried among toppled shelves. She eats half and hands the rest to Abby. Mouth dry, she treks over the shelves to the no-longer-cold cold boxes. All the beer is gone--not that she cares--but there are several dented cans of soda and a few bottles of water lying sideways.

“I know it’s been half a year, but I never thought things would get to this point,” Erin says on returning to Abby’s side. “I sometimes can’t even remember what life was like before all this.”

“I think it’s better that way. You have less to miss.”

“I guess.” Erin tosses a bottle to Abby, who misses the catch and has to scramble after it. “There’s enough to miss anyway.”

Abby takes a long sip, and a bit of liquid dribbles out the side of her lips. She frowns as she twists the cap back on. “I’m sorry. That we can’t go find your parents, I mean.”

Erin offers a casual shrug, despite not feeling at all at ease. “I’m more concerned about Matthew and his parents. We’re all adults--but he’s just a kid.”

“Kids do lose their parents young.”

“I know,” Erin whispers, thinking about how poorly phrased her thoughts were coming out. She thinks about standing at the funeral for Abby’s father, dressed in an uncomfortable black dress and dark magenta stockings. She remembers Abby’s pale face and red-rimmed eyes, and how very tightly Abby clutched her hand. “I misspoke.”

“I’m just saying that we’ve all lost people because that’s life. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but it’s the truth. Sure, it woulda been great if we could have protected him from all the awful shit. But since we can’t, he’s gotta learn to make it in whatever weird world we live in now. Besides, he’s got us. We’re his family now.”

Erin trundles along with her cart, keeping an even pace with Abby. She wonders just what kind of world this is, and if there’s any way to make it better or easier. Getting the apartments running would be nice, but Abby has opened her eyes to another issue: once a community is gathered, there needs to be a form of structure. A hierarchy. They pass an abandoned police car, and she adds law enforcement to her list of questions. Would they have laws? Would they need them?

She stumbles over a hole in the sidewalk and rights herself quickly. In the distance, she can just make out the silver canisters atop the Ecto. They pick up speed, all but running to make it to the car. Once there, they pack their treasure into the back and pile into the front. Abby performs a perfect three-point-turn and heads back in the direction of the firehouse. She drives faster than she usually would, and Erin doesn’t want to complain.

0-0-0

“Oh thank goodness.” Patty pulls the door open and heads over to help them unpack. “We got Holtzy locked in a closet.”

Erin stares at her, mouth agape. “Locked? In a closet?”

“Look, it’s harder on us than on her. She’s been singing Trapped in the Closet non-stop since she figured we weren’t going to just let her out.”

“Why would you do that?”

“As soon as the sun set last night, we knew y’all weren’t gonna make it back. She wasn’t willing to wait and see if you’d show up this morning.” Patty helps Abby with some of the gear. She notes the winter jackets and nods her approval. “Might be a bit big for Matthew, but he ain’t freezing, that’s for sure.”

The three of them manage to snag everything, so Abby locks the doors. They enter the firehouse and find Jenn sitting on the ground, leaning against the closet door. There are bags under her eyes, and she stares at them angrily.

“This is your fault,” she accuses.

“Yup.” Abby grins and helps Patty shove the cabinet back in front of the door. “Couldn’t resist their sale on housewares. Did you know everything is 100% off right now?”

“I’m going to bed. You all can deal with her.” Jenn stands, flips the lock, and lets Holtzmann tumble free.

Holtzmann stays on the ground for several long moments. Her clothing is ruffled, her cheeks are ruddy, and there’s a crick in her neck that keeps her from straightening fully. When she spots Erin’s shoes, she crawls forward and rubs her fingers tenderly over the canvas. She gives the same treatment to Abby’s shoes, along with a reverent kiss.

“My saviors.”

“Cut it out, Holtz.” Abby lends her a hand and drags her upright once more.

She rubs her neck fervently and then fumbles to get her hair into a semblance of a hairdo. “But it’d just grow back.”

“Patty tells us you were being stupid last night.”

Holtz staggers back, hand pressed to her chest. “Moi? Stupid?”

“Yes, you.” Abby flicks her forehead. “You have to learn to be patient.”

“We didn’t mean to worry you,” Erin asserts quietly. “We just lost track of time.”

When Holtz makes eye contact, Erin notices the same sort of devastation she’d seen in Abby’s eyes at the funeral. Her throat clenches, and she swallows several times to try and ease the tension she feels. They hadn’t died, she wants to argue, but doing so is pointless; there’s no long-distance communication, and missed deadlines could mean the worst.

She steps closer, arms outstretched. Holtz hesitantly allows the hug. When Abby joins in, Holtz laughs and pushes them away. Patty ruffles her hair, and Holtz sighs.

“Patty, I’m not a dog.”

“You smell like one right now.”

“You try spending a night in the closet.”

“Rather not.”

“I don’t think it’s the closet,” Abby comments. “Erin was in there for decades, and she doesn’t reek.”

“Abby!” Erin slaps Abby’s shoulders.


	21. Chapter 21

Erin slips into a new shirt, freshly laundered and warm from the dryer. She holds the fabric to her nose and inhales; the fresh scent and the soft cloth are nearly overwhelming comforts. Dropping the neckline, she grabs a pair of jeans and slips them on. They’re tight, when she usually prefers boot cut, but they will be easier to move in, and she doesn’t have to worry as much about ripping the cuffs. Abby insisted on taking them from the men’s section because the pockets are bigger and therefore better. Erin agrees--she’s just not sure what she really needs to carry around these days.

She tugs on her tennis shoes, pulls the laces tight, and stands. Bouncing on her toes, she moves her arms back and forth. The process of limbering up gets her blood flowing, although the hard work of the day is still hours away. Mostly, she goes through the motions to help steady her excitement. They’re going to get the apartments cleaned up, or at least a few them at first. Holtz and Patty will work on the roof, setting up solar panels and a second garden. Inside, she, Abby, and Jen will go through each abode.

Dusting and cleaning is so thoroughly pedestrian, Erin can hardly wait. They’ve done some basic cleaning in the firehouse, but she hasn’t gotten to scrub anything for too long. They have plenty of supplies, both from their scavenging and from within the apartments themselves, and it’s all she can do to not sniff their calming disinfectant smell. She has no interest in getting high, at least not off of industrial products. Her knowledge of the chemical components is definitely a turn off.

“You ready?”

She turns to smile at Abby and flash her raised thumb. Abby snorts at the childish gesture and waves for her to follow, which she does. The bounce in her step does not go unnoticed by the rest of the team. Patty nods knowingly, and Jenn jokes that if she loves cleaning this much, then why is the firehouse so dirty?

“Is this a kink I don’t know about?” Holtz leers until she turns bright red. “Did you have a thing for Mr. Clean?”

She refuses to admit that one of her earliest self-chosen Halloween costumes was of the bald-headed mascot. “No, it’s not. I mean, I like things clean, but doesn’t everyone?”

“Oh, sweetie,” Patty says with a shake of her head. “You’ve heard of water sports, haven’t you?”

“Like kneeboarding?”

Holtz throws herself to the ground as she laughs, and Erin realizes she just made herself the punchline of a joke. Abby throws an arm around her shoulders.

“Some people like getting peed on, Er.”

“Oh. Oh my.” She sighs. “That definitely explains it, though. I used to wonder how people could make water skiing a sexy activity.”

“You learn something every day.”

“Can we just get on with it? Or are we going to sit around here all day making fun of me?”

Holtz checks her watch. “The day is still young, so isn’t there time for both?”

“Holtzmann.” She glowers, not truly angry about the gentle teasing but truly interested in starting the cleaning epic.

By the time they all march across Holtz’s bridge--some more tentatively than others--Erin’s forgotten her embarrassment. She drops a kiss on Holtz’s cheek and then hurries down to the top floor. The first apartment is covered in a fine layer of dust and thankfully not a drop of blood. Whoever lived up here fled the scene, rather than starving or being attacked. She starts in the kitchen, under the sink where she pulls out a box of garbage bags, some bottles of bleach, a plastic bag full of plastic bags, and an opened package of sponges.

With them removed, she wipes the surfaces down with one of the found sponges. Each scrub gives her a sense of peace and control. When she finishes cleaning every inch of the apartment, aside from vacuuming the carpets, which will have to happen later, she feels as though she’s been totally rejuvenated. Her grin widens at the thought of cleaning another handful of homes.

Abby meets her in the hallway and scoffs. “Is that a scrub brush in your pocket, or are you just happy to be cleaning?”

“Both.”

“Makes sense,” Abby replies, grinning now. “Glad to see you perkin’ up finally.”

“I guess all I needed was some bleach, a toothbrush, and some grout in need of cleaning.”

“You’re easy to please.”

“Do you think this is going to last?” Erin looks around at their progress and feels hesitation mar her happiness. She’d felt pretty certain about her life before all of this happened. And then all of this happened. 

Ever pragmatic, Abby states, “Probably not. But that’s no reason not to try.”

Erin takes one last look into the apartment she’d just spent the last three hours in and moves toward the stairs. She’s worked up an appetite, and she needs to see the sun.

0-0-0

Cleaning the building up takes a week, and Erin is invigorated to continue plans for the process. They need to board up the first floor windows to avoid intrusion and have Holtz install a locking mechanism on the front door that will permit entry to some but be impossible to breach to most. The apartments on the first floor will be communal spaces, and whoever is on guard can openly roam to check on weak points or to investigate strange noises. The rest of the apartments will hopefully be filled by them and anyone they can recruit.

All this means to Erin is that they need to decide on some rules. Patty and Jenn are immediately on board, and Abby groans about the bureaucracy of it all. Holtz grumbles and refuses to participate, on the grounds that rules are unnecessary impediments to scientific research and achievement. 

“Holtz, c’mon,” Patty coaxes. “Even science has rules, yeah?”

“Contrary to what they teach in elementary schools, science has theories, not rules or facts. Just because the sun rose this morning doesn’t mean it will tomorrow.”

“What about those institutional review boards? The ones that are there to protect participants.”

Holtz waves a hand. “They don’t know what they’re looking at half the time.”

“Then you failed your job by not communicating clearly enough.”

“Guys!” Erin lifts her hands, and Holtz quiets quickly. “Stop. Holtz, if you don’t want to help, just go do something else. It’s fine.”

Holtz skulks to the table and sits. “Yeah, okay.”

Erin expects to have arguments and that the discussion will need to be tabled for another night. Instead, her suggestions are met with careful thought and agreement. The first few rules are the easiest, however. Those in their community could not steal from, kill, or assault others. If there were an accusation, a neutral third party would hear evidence from both sides and decide on a punishment, if any. Everyone would participate in building maintenance in whatever capacity they could, and trips outside need to be reported, just so there will be no panic when someone knocks on the door to be let back in. 

The only snag of the discussion is how to handle incoming people. There’s no way to do background checks, so they won’t know if someone is a problem until later, which makes Erin uneasy. This is to be a safe haven, and she doesn’t like the thought of anyone entering just to cause harm. She supposes taking a risk on people who look safe is fine, but Patty jumps in and argues that it isn’t fair to base a rejection or acceptance on the way someone looks. Erin flushes.

“That’s--It didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. I just mean that if they’re not carrying weapons--”

“Weapons they might have needed to reach us?”

Erin deflates. “So, do we just let anyone who wants to join us come inside? Because that doesn’t seem right to me. We have limited resources…”

Holtz picks up her thought. “So, we’re going to have to decide at some point who deserves to survive with us and who doesn’t.”

“We could prioritize people with children,” Jenn puts in. “Or people who might not be able to fend for themselves out there.”

“What about usefulness? Like, say a plumber comes along at the same time as, I don’t know, a stand up comedian. We’d take the plumber, right? Just in case something goes wrong,” Abby adds.

“Everyone has something to offer,” Holtz snaps.

Abby winces and retracts her statement. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It sort of is. What if an able-bodied person rolls up with someone in a wheelchair. Who are you letting in?”

Tense silence descends. Erin knows there is no right answer to any of these questions, and there’s plenty of potential for hurt feelings. Finally, Abby breaks the silence and throws her hands up.

“Fine, I see your point. I think at this point we have to say fuck it to standards. This is about surviving, and I think everyone deserves a fair shot.”

Erin nods slowly. She’ll accept being a little uncomfortable if it means keeping a bit of a moral compass. While she knows the phrase innocent until proven guilty wasn’t actually a cornerstone of the legal system, she wants it to be one for their home. People deserve a chance, and she’s going to help give them one.


End file.
